The Twisted Turnabout
by All-Seeing-Espeon
Summary: Apollo had always convinced himself everything would be fine. But in the midst of new beginnings, betrayals, and banishment from the Agency, his life keeps spiraling out of control. After teaming up with Edgeworth and being pushed to his breaking point, he realizes there's only one person left for him to defend...himself. AU (some character details changed), post DD, slow build.
1. Prologue

The room was dark when the man realized that he was not alone. The curtains were drawn, the doors were locked, and all the lights were turned off, trapping him in a pit of black. He started, rubbing his eyes and sitting up straighter in his recliner. He had not been expecting to wake up to sheer nothingness.

He also didn't expect the soft footsteps that had echoed in his dreams to approach him further. Cold steel prodded the side of his head, digging into his temple.

"Thanks, boss."

The man's eyes flicked up to see who it was. He gaped, but no words save a sharp gasp escaped him. The bullet ripped through his system in an instant, piercing his brain like a needle through a sponge. Searing pain sliced through his skull for a second before fading into the enclosing void.

Blood ran past glassy eyes.

The darkness prevailed.


	2. Addition to the Agency

_It's getting too quiet…_

"Hey, Apollo! How much paperwork are you really going to finish before he gets here?"

_Never mind. There it is._

"Get out of there already!"

Apollo shook his head at Athena's third call, sighing at himself for jinxing the rare moment of silence. Maybe it was time to admit defeat. He placed a rather heavy box of records to the side and stretched his arms out in front of him, feeling his shoulders pop. He had spent all morning moving boxes, sorting out important files, selecting old case files for review—his muscles ached and his back hurt from the excessive organizing, but he had managed to do something productive. Sure, Athena enjoyed expressing her happiness by bouncing off walls and chattering away, but Apollo preferred showing his enthusiasm by putting his energy to some real use.

Creating a work station was, after all, a practical way to get ready for a new addition to the Wright Anything Agency.

"Polly, aren't you even a little excited?"

"Yeah, aren't you? Apollo!"

"Coming!" he yelled back, deciding to leave the rest of the work for the new guy. At least, he liked to tell himself it was a decision. With Trucy backing Athena up, there was no possibility of resisting the two of them.

And he had done enough, he supposed. Looking down at his efforts, he supposed that at least some of it was sure to be appreciated. The desk that had been previously jammed with miscellaneous and questionable items was now neat and tidy, the boxes of old records that used to be shoved in various locations under Mr. Wright's bed were kept positioned by year, and the entire room was checked once and twice again for any random items left behind by Trucy…it seemed sufficient to him. He stretched once again before finally heading to the living room. Any more work and his limbs would fall off.

"Had fun, Apollo?" Phoenix greeted from the couch, grinning as Apollo brushed dust off of his vest. Cheer danced on the blue attorney's face, and Apollo resisted the urge to scoff. Forget Athena and Trucy, Mr. Wright had been beaming with joy the instant he had gotten an offer for another partner, and had even taken to ruffling Apollo's delicately managed hair and clapping him firmly on the back numerous times. Although, maybe that was the reason Apollo had chosen to arrange the new guy's workplace—if he stayed any closer to Phoenix, he was sure to get run over.

"I was setting up some space for him," Apollo explained. Phoenix only chuckled.

"Wow. Anxious, are you?" Phoenix shook his head, laughter flashing in his eyes. "You do realize that you don't need to set up anything for him?"

Apollo flushed, even though he had understood that from the very beginning. Phoenix had the amazing ability of making him feel embarrassed at nothing at all, despite his best efforts to remain composed. "I-I know, Mr. Wright. It was just—"

"Aw, Polly is excited, daddy!" Trucy called, popping up behind the couch. Her eyes twinkled. "That's why he was taking so long!"

"Really? You were still making that work station or whatever? Wow!" Athena instantly bounded over to Phoenix from her room, her eyes bright with anticipation. She was practically radiating with joy, Widget glowing a vibrant green on her neck. "That is so sweet of you!"

Apollo turned an even darker shade of red, unsure of how he was supposed to respond. How is the new guy going to survive in this place? "Athena, it's a basic courtesy—"

"That mentors don't have to give." Phoenix said, still smiling. "Not even a day of teaching and you're already so much more responsible than old me. I never set up your or Athena's workplace!"

"Yeah, I remember, Mr. Wright. That's because you technically weren't my mentor at the time." Apollo deadpanned, realizing that Phoenix was just trying to make him play the fool. "Also, I set up Athena's place for her."

"Wait, wait, wait." Athena asked, raising her eyebrows. She pointed a finger from Phoenix to Apollo, seemingly puzzled. "You did that?" Apollo stared at her, wondering if she was pulling his leg.

"What do you mean? Of course I did." Apollo said, furrowing his brow when she didn't start snickering. Trucy tilted her head when he glanced at her, trying to think back.

"Yeah, I think I remember Polly working on it…"

"I know, I'm pretty sure you were watching me for part of it…at least I think." Now he was getting confused. Athena still looked as puzzled as him. "Didn't Mr. Wright…"

Apollo shifted to Phoenix's sheepish expression. Suddenly it all made sense. He smacked a hand on his forehead and let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh, please don't tell me—"

"I may or may not have thought I did that by accident." Phoenix admitted, rubbing the back of his head. Apollo wasn't amused. He glared at Phoenix, recalling the even longer work that had gone into that office. Phoenix fidgeted. The silence grew tense.

"Awkward!"

Apollo broke his gaze and brushed his hair back when Athena burst out laughing, closing her hand over Widget and trying to say "I'm so sorry, Apollo" between breaths. Trucy covered a hand over her mouth, but even she was unable to suppress her giggling. Apollo rolled his eyes at the little device, deciding to change the subject before it blared anything else. Phoenix's luck played even for small emergencies, it seemed.

"Why do we even need a secretary? I'm doing all the organization work anyway," Apollo groused. "And it's not as if I'm bad at it."

"No one said you were bad!" Trucy protested. Apollo shook his head.

"I know, but I still don't see why—"

"Cheer up, kid." Phoenix waved a hand at him, effectively cutting him off once more. Apollo listened to him grudgingly, still feeling upset about the work station incident. "The agency could benefit from having another person around. Besides, I didn't know you enjoyed working overtime. I'll keep that in mind." Once again reaping amusement from Apollo's flustered expression, Phoenix just smirked and pretended not to notice. "But to be serious—the only way the agency can grow is if we have more working hands. And getting a secretary isn't a bad place to start."

"Plus it'll be fun," Athena added.

"And maybe he'll like magic tricks…" Trucy mused, putting her hand on her chin and looking towards her equipment.

Then the three of them looked at Apollo as if daring him to continue the argument.

Apollo, who was admittedly overwhelmed by the evidence stacked against him, dropped it. He could only handle one of them with difficulty on any given day, but three at once—he didn't even want to think about the royal beating he would receive. He looked away and checked his watch. Three o' clock. "Hey, isn't he supposed to be here by—?"

As if waiting for that exact question to surface, the doorbell rang, interrupting Apollo for the third time in a row.

"Punctual," Phoenix nodded to himself, sounding vaguely impressed. "Apollo, get it."

"But…Mr. Wright…maybe you should…" Apollo started. Phoenix ignored him and gestured towards the door.

"Don't be shy! He's going to learn from you."

"Wait, me?" Apollo exclaimed. "You never said anything about that!" Phoenix shrugged nonchalantly, gaze flicking to the door at the sound of another ring. Apollo narrowed his eyes. "Seriously, Mr. Wright?"

"It can't be that bad, Apollo," Athena piped, saving Phoenix once again. "Oh shoot, I need to brush my hair!"

Trucy bounced on her heels. "Yay, Polly's a teacher!"

The bell rang again.

Apollo groaned and gave up, reluctantly moving towards the entrance as Phoenix had decreed. He mumbled "just lazy" under his breath before finally answering the door, and instantly composed himself.

"Hi, Wright Anything Agencies. Can I help—oh, wow."


	3. Aden the Amicable

"Yeah…hi…" The voice belonged to a young man. That was all Apollo could really distinguish. The rest was hidden behind an enormous amount of files towering in the mystery man's arms, reaching above his head, and teetering dangerously—"Actually…I'm the new secretary…"

"Here, give me some of that." Apollo hastily took a few of the thick stacks covering the person's face, trying to get a better look at the new guy. Surprisingly, the weight of the records distracted him. He wondered exactly what kind of valuables were hidden in the case files to make them so heavy, and then wondered how much strength was hidden in the man's thin arms to make them manageable.

"Oh, thanks!" The guy cast him a grateful smile. Apollo stared.

Clear, sparkling eyes and bright blond hair shone with an image of bubbling youthfulness, but the young man's expression remained as soft and innocent as that of a child. Apollo was quickly confused by the strange mix. There was no way that this man—or boy, he felt more inclined to think—was a year or two older than Apollo as written on the resume. He looked no older than eighteen, actually—a fresh upstart straight out of high school dropped at the front of the doorstep, eagerness radiating from his very presence.

"You're…Aden Guile?" Apollo asked, just to make sure. The young man nodded fervently, not giving the slightest indication of unease at Apollo's scrutinizing. The very action felt almost naive. Maybe the age isn't accurate on paper…

"Yes, that's me. I applied to be a secretary here a little while back." Aden seemed to be chock full of more enthusiasm than Athena was when she was ready for a new investigation. "I'm very honored to be accepted by Mr. Phoenix Wright, sir, and I've looked up to him for such a long time—"

"Yeah, I know…why don't you come in?" Apollo said, cutting Aden off before the man could start rambling in his excitement. Aden leapt at the suggestion, his gaze gleaming in something akin to wonder as soon as he stepped inside. Apollo closed the door and watched him look around the agency as though it's very sight held all the records of the captivating cases that had been battled by its inhabitants. The young man's gaze swept over the entire room before coming to a rest at Phoenix, who was now standing tall near the couch and offering a welcoming smile.

"Mr. Phoenix Wright!" Aden exclaimed, putting his records to the side and appearing to shake Phoenix's hand in an instant. Apollo marveled at the way Phoenix took the sudden strike of vigor with an easy chuckle. "It's very nice to meet you, sir! I'm the new secretary, and I've been studying your cases recently, and I must say, you're possibly the most intriguing defense attorney I've ever heard about, sir—"

"Welcome to the team, Aden. I feel good that you're part of the agency now—I get to hear compliments more often." Phoenix replied. Aden nodded, and Apollo pondered whether his own fascination with Mr. Wright had been this ardent. "You're ready to sort our records, right?"

"Yes, sir! I'll get more work done than you can imagine!" Aden gushed. Apollo almost cringed from the level of admiration in that phrase alone. No, there was no way that Apollo had held Phoenix in such a high form of reverence—and if it had slipped his memory, it surely must have been because he had been deluded.

"That's great to hear. I'm sure you will." Aden's face visibly brightened further, and Apollo rolled his eyes. Phoenix seemed to notice, because he picked that exact moment to draw attention to his older protege. "Apollo will show you to your workstation, and will tell you what you need to do. You'll be fine—he doesn't bite. Usually."

"Yeah, although Polly can get a bit grumpy sometimes." Trucy continued, looking up from behind the couch again. She tipped her hat at Aden, keeping a tight hold on her magic wand. Aden raised his eyebrows.

"Trucy Wright? The magician?" Aden asked, his eyes nearly popping out of his head. He pointed to her and Phoenix, as if hoping to draw out the obvious connection. "Your daughter, Mr. Wright?"

"Yeah, I am! Best magician there is!" Trucy said, lifting her head proudly. "And he's my daddy, too. Hey, you like magic, don't you? Do you want to see my panties?"

Apollo's breath caught in his throat, and he felt himself growing embarrassed on Trucy's behalf. He should have warned her against saying something like that. When taken out of context, it sounded—

"Oh, yeah! I saw one of your shows! You fit a whole tuba in them!"

Of course, Aden seemed to understand everything about the Wright family already.

"You saw that one?" Trucy replied, growing much more involved in the conversation now that it revolved around her panties. "Was that the one were I took a whole cage of live birds out of them?"

"No, I don't think so…but you did take out five broomsticks, if that helps!"

"I don't think it would—she has twenty broomsticks lying around the agency." Phoenix said. They all laughed for no reason and Trucy took it as an opportunity to go into greater detail about her magic acts.

Apollo watched the three of them laughing and wasting more time was necessary. He watched them make a fuss over more silly comments made by the new guy. His impatience took over him eventually. He lifted half of Aden's records again with a huff and cleared his throat, thankfully interrupting another overly exuberant statement. "Um, yeah, we should probably set up your—"

"Hey, wait! You forgot about me!"

Athena's cry had to interject, of course, and she bounded out of her room, hair still in a tangled mess. She stuck her hand out in complete confidence, ignoring the fact that half her head was at war with itself, and forcefully shook Aden's hand. "Athena Cykes! Nice to meet you!"

"Cykes? I've heard about you, too!" Aden said, his eyes falling on Widget. In a moment's glance, the green glow from the smiling electronic partner had completely enthralled him. "You psychoanalyze the witnesses with that! And read their emotions! That's…I wish I could do that!"

"So sweet!" Widget announced, and Athena covered it up with a blush. Aden didn't seem to mind, still staring intently at it.

"So…you can see what other people are feeling, right? And it shows what you're feeling?"

"Yeah! Actually there's a program called the Mood Matrix and that's what does the specific analysis of all the other emotions and stuff, and it's pretty cool! You get to see if the person's happy, angry, sad, afraid, or surprised and then based on that you can see if their emotion matches their testimony and—"

"And I think we might spend hours on this if we let Athena continue." Phoenix said, finally, finally, getting the slightest taste of Apollo's absolute agony. "Let's get to work. We'll have plenty of time for this later. Okay, so Apollo will show you the work station we all worked so very hard on."

"Really? Thank you, Mr. Wright! I appreciate it a lot!"

Apollo shot a venomous look towards Phoenix's smug face, but was forced to return to his normal state as soon as Aden turned to him. This was all moving way too fast. He'd just gotten used to having Athena assist him, and now he had to mentor someone completely new? Was this some sort of rite of passage Mr. Wright was trying to force on him?

"All right, come on." Apollo directed, moving back to the work station before he could indulge in overthinking. "Bring all your records."

"Right! Of course!" Aden gushed, scooping up the rest of the files and following Apollo far too closely. Apollo took a deep breath. This was going to be the ultimate test of his patience.


	4. Clipped Conversation

Apollo wasn't sure how he'd react if Aden addressed him with the same overwhelming positivity he'd showed the others.

The very thought of the interaction made his brain race to suppress his anxiety.

_You're doing fine. He's just being friendly. You're fine._

Somehow, they made it to the station without any more sudden sunny exclamations. Apollo placed the files on the desk and watched Aden grow entranced at the very idea of having his own place to work. This was really getting to be too much. He coughed under his breath to cover up a scoff.

"Wow, thanks! This really means a lot to me!"

"Don't mention it." Apollo said. His voice sounded gruff to his own ears, and he hesitated for a moment. Wait..._thanks?_ That certainly was a rare occasion—rare enough that he had wasted it by grumbling back a reply.

Aden merrily began to sort his files into the cabinets, and he tried to sort his thoughts out in his mind. No, that had been no way to act. He was being bitter for no reason at all. After all, he barely knew the man. In that aspect, he could take a leaf out of Phoenix's, Athena's, and Trucy's endless encyclopedia of social interactions. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling slightly out of place at the thought of interrupting Aden's focus.

Curiosity overcame him soon enough. There really wasn't much he knew. That was not a good start, especially since they were going to be working together. He still didn't understand why Phoenix had made him act the mentor, nor why Aden was the one directed to learn from him…well, that was a start. "Hey, Aden…do you mind if I talk to you a bit? While you work, I mean."

"Oh! Not at all!" Aden said, his smile springing to his face again. Of course he wouldn't mind. Apollo sighed at how stupid of a question that sounded before shrugging it off as always, deciding to get to the point. They were never going to speak at this point.

"I was just wondering…where exactly did Phoenix find you? I haven't actually seen lots of applications for people wanting to be secretaries in a defense agency, let alone a law office."

Aden swiped the back of his hand across his forehead as he stuffed a great number of files in the bottom cabinet, shifting his attention back to the files. "Well, I needed a job, so here I am!"

The next minute welcomed only the rustling of paper. Apollo was puzzled at the quietness. Aden seemed gregarious enough of a person to go off on tangents of his entire life…the brevity of the response took him by surprise. He thought about it for a while.

_Oh, wait…he could have been fired from his last job, so he might not want to talk about it._

That seemed logical enough. What a great conversation starter—remind the new guy of his past failures. Apollo quickly shifted gears, attempting to bridge the gap before it grew too large. "That's pretty good for us, I guess. How long have you been a secretary? You look pretty experienced."

"A while."

Shuffling paper again. Aden was not going to elaborate.

_Strange._

Another touchy subject? Probably. It was just like him to pick the worst topics to begin with. "A-Anyway…I was just asking because you're sorting those files out pretty quickly. This isn't your first job, is it?"

"Not really."

Oh, shoot. He had gone back to the idea of old jobs. Backtracked into awkwardness…he really should have dropped it.

"All right. Either way, good job. Just asking generally, you know, where are you from? We have a lot of people from different countries who come in for work—like Athena."

That was a simple enough question—no way to go wrong with that. Clear cut, plus Aden would probably love describing his hometown or his house or something like that—

"Around."

_Just…around?_

For some reason, despite his cheery nature and bursting enthusiasm, Aden seemed to be even worse than Apollo at holding up a conversation. The sheer vagueness of the answers instilled no desire to keep talking…finally, Apollo decided the best course of action was to let the silence fall. The entire situation was getting more uncomfortable the more Apollo pursued it, and Aden wasn't really helping.

Aden shoved more papers in various areas of the desk. Apollo glanced around at the room. He had done a pretty good job of clearing everything out…although that meant most of the storage was now stuffed in the closet of his room. Damn, he needed to organize that now. Although it wasn't as much stuff as he had expected it to be…which was strange, since he knew how much Phoenix liked being a pack rat—

"Can I use the closet to for some stuff?" Aden broke through his train of thought, and Apollo jolted. The secretary was suddenly as talkative as ever once more. "I don't want all my old files to be in the same place, you know, 'cause then they get mixed up and stuff and there's no way I want to slog through that again—"

"Yeah. Sure." Apollo said. He moved to the closet and opened the door as Aden lifted some more records. "You can keep them right—oh, shoot."

No wonder there wasn't as much junk in this room as he had thought there would be. He had forgotten to clean out the closet in his haste to get the work station ready, and it was filled with a variety of items that he knew would take more than a few days to organize. He swallowed, peeking inside only to confirm the fact that there was no more possible room left until he cleared it. "Okay, actually, just keep that stuff somewhere away from the desk…I have to sort this."

"Oh no, it's fine, I was just asking. I really don't care much." Aden put his files to the side and looked inside, far more interested in the real contents of the closet rather than any potential space. "That's a lot of stuff."

"I guess." In reality, there was nothing to guess. It was obvious enough. Trucy's props occupied most of the space, followed by some of Athena's various keepsakes and Phoenix's old suits and briefcases and the like. Even Apollo had the habit of throwing things in there on occasion, particularly things he did not really want to visit again—some old college papers that had caused him immense stress and irritation, the stacks of notes he had written for Mr. Gavin, the files he had scrawled on when he had been down and out of work in the brief period after cutting ties from Mr. Gavin and Phoenix—now that he dwelled on it, he felt a little on edge at the idea of Aden staring at all of the stuff he had tried to hide from view. He started to close the door. "Yeah, so I'll just get this done soon enough—"

"Whoa, wait." Aden grabbed the edge of the door, prying it open once again. Apollo hoped he was looking at one of Trucy's props—he followed Aden's finger when the man pointed at something near the back of the pile. "Is that…the space jacket?"

Sure enough, he was gesturing at the navy blue space jacket, partially obscured from view by one of Trucy's outrageous props.

Apollo didn't want to talk anymore at all.


	5. Remembrance and Regret

"It's just one of my old things." Apollo said, rushing through his sentences. He definitely didn't need to revisit that now. "Anyway, so—-"

"No way." Aden continued, opening the door a bit wider. "That's…whoa, that's _Clay Terran's_ jacket! The space guy who got murdered a few weeks ago!" Aden's gaze whipped back to him. "That means you're Apollo Justice! His friend! Oh, I _remember_ now! I saw you burst in during the trial!" The man vigorously shook his hand, filled with about as much energy as Apollo had lost. "It's really cool to meet you! Damn, I should've recognized you sooner!"

Apollo was at a loss for words. His tongue felt heavy and his mind was racing faster than he could articulate respectfully into words. Was that really how he was known? How Clay was known? Some guy who got murdered and the crazy friend who interrupted a trial about it? The idea was straining him beyond his limit. Did no one really know him at all? He'd much rather be known by his affinity for red and his apparently absurd hair than that short time of senselessness.

"Oh, I've always wanted to ask about this. That case was long, wasn't it? What made you so sure it was Athena who murdered him? Were you getting desperate? I mean, I guess that's okay, but that was some serious accusation…"

Apollo broke out of his daze, but the topic was just as unbearable. He shook his head, forcing the door closed. "I…I don't really—"

"Right, right, that whole knife thing was pretty suspicious, I guess. Can you imagine if she had _actually_ murdered him? That would have been a weird twist. You might have wanted to strangle her after that!"

Aden was talking as carelessly as he liked, oblivious to any sign of Apollo's obvious uneasiness. Apollo bit the inside of his cheek and turned his gaze towards the ground. "I don't really think—I don't—"

"That must have been _intense_." Aden continued, not even letting Apollo finish. He snapped his fingers, making Apollo jump. "Oh! I think I get it now! Remember how you left the Agency for a while? I noticed you just disappeared off the case for a bit…yeah, that was kind of a crazy move from you." Apollo looked behind Aden at the blank wall, hoping to shut him out. Yes, he remembered. Did he want to remember? Not particularly. What had he been planning to do? Right, records. No, the closet. Sorting the closet. Organizing it. Putting everything in the right—"I think _that's_ why I didn't think it was you! I thought that after that whole thing, you wouldn't come back. You know, you went against everyone and stuff. They're pretty forgiving to let you in again!"

Apollo couldn't take it for much longer. He moved away from Aden, putting the old records properly in the corner of the room. _Shut up. Please, shut up._ "I don't like to think about it too much."

"Oh." Aden was finally, blissfully, quiet. Apollo relaxed his muscles, relieved at the notion. _Now he gets it._ Forget about making Aden feel uncomfortable, Aden had succeeded in making him more unwelcome than anyone ever had, willingly or unwillingly.

Apollo let out a breath, his nervous energy lowering. _Be forgiving._ The guy was new, and overexcited. Letting the issue go would make him understand that it wasn't something he was interested in. "I hope you get through most of your newer records today. We might need to give you some more work tomorrow or something, on fresh cases."

"Okay. Sounds great." Apollo headed towards the door as soon as Aden confirmed, forcing himself to try to forget the entire encounter._ I've got too much work. That closet is going to take forever…_

"Maybe that's why Mr. Wright took me in."

Apollo hesitated.

He made the mistake of glancing back at Aden with a question written on his face. Aden simply shrugged his shoulders and grinned.

"I mean, after all that's happened…you can never be too sure, right?"

Apollo turned away and shut the door behind him.


	6. Building Bitterness

Unlike Apollo when he first joined the Agency, Aden took no time at all to settle right in and become a part of the family. It happened far too quickly.

Upbeat and enthusiastic as always, Aden seemed to understand exactly how to fit in without the slightest amount of insecurity in his actions. On the third day of work, he gladly accompanied Trucy to her magic show, and actually _volunteered_ to become her assistant during the live performance (although he didn't know many of the acts, he managed to do spectacularly "based on what he saw on television" as he very "modestly" said.)

By the first week, he had made it a habit to go out with Athena for a quick run around the block to talk about psychology and the Mood Matrix with her, claiming that he had taken a minor course on human behavior in college but had never managed to pursue it even though he was really into it.

And every single morning without fail, he would make Mr. Wright a nice, steaming mug of coffee, and take out a few bottles of grape juice for Mr. Wright to drink later in the afternoon.

Always cheerful, always on top of his work, always able to please everyone around him.

Well, almost everyone.

To be fair, Aden had tried to be as open with Apollo as he had been with the rest of the Agency. And equally, Apollo had tried to accept Aden, and had tried to forget the awkward little conversation they'd had the first time they'd met. But while Aden persisted, Apollo was continuously discouraged from keeping on. Every time Aden cast him a smile, something drove him to feel darker than usual. Aden's bright demeanor only pointed out the grays present in his own life. And just the _conversations_, the joking, the wild experiences Aden had with everyone else—he knew then that he was more isolated than ever. Something started to chew the confines of his mind.

Resentment was cultivating in the back of his brain.

He hated it.

Aden was a good person by nature. Apollo understood that. Aden respected Apollo—he clearly admired him, and took his advice very seriously. Apollo knew that also. And the only time Aden had ever made a serious fault had been in his sheer ignorance, for happiness was embedded so deeply in his personality that he was blind to any prospect of grief or loss. Apollo couldn't blame him for that. But no matter how he saw it, Apollo could not make himself stay relaxed. He was growing used to the constant tension.

The more light Aden brought with him, the more Apollo receded into the darkness.

_How ironic._

Apollo tapped his pen on his desk, berated himself for making such a cynical remark again, and refocused on his work. Today was just another day to try and accomplish his goal: feel normal around Aden and talk to him like anyone else. One side of him was frustrated, anxious to feel successful.

And then there was the other side, glad that he had tons of paperwork to make it seem like he was too busy to talk.

He mindlessly signed the end of one form and turned the page, staring at a repeat of information he had already filled five pages ago. He should be the one to try to talk to Aden about things other than work. No, he had tried that—it only ended up making him more aggravated. Aden loved to be ambiguous with almost every response. Well, what else could he do? Perhaps…glance at the clock for the tenth time. It was nearing five o'clock, and he wanted to be back at his apartment by five thirty. Going home early was more desirable than going home late nowadays.

_Aden, Aden, Aden…_

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. Everything was driving him mad. These records were far too mundane to occupy him for long. He needed a sense of normalcy.

He needed a case.

A case would put him back to his normal state. He would be back on the field, doing his normal thing, absorbed in the matters at hand so much that he would be given a break from—

"Hey, Polly, you want me to fill those out?"

_Damn you, coincidence._

"Aden. Hello." Apollo said, straightening up before Aden could notice that he was zoning out. He took a moment to register what Aden had said. Wait. "Polly?"

"Right! Trucy told me about that. It's a fun nickname! I should've caught on earlier. I always thought she was talking about a parrot or something."

_Great. It's catching on._ Apollo could feel himself growing more exasperated by the minute, but Aden was as clueless as ever.

"You don't mind if I call you that, do you?"

_You know, I don't really prefer that name. It's just something Trucy likes to call me. She's actually younger than me, you see. So I really do mind. Will you stop trying so hard and just stick to Apollo? Do you really think I'd like that name if I never mentioned it to you?_

Apollo only shrugged.

"Great! Thanks, Polly!"

_No thanks, Aden. Damn it. _

Apollo turned away from Aden's beaming face and back to his work. Once more, he was growing sullen. This wouldn't end well if Aden kept pushing him. "I'd love to talk, but I have to do this paperwork. We can catch up later."

"Oh no, that's why I came. The paperwork."

Apollo looked down at the forms, wondering what was so interesting about them. Aden moved next to him and looked at them also, as if trying to remember the excuse he needed to bother Apollo further.

"Aren't these just files on a bunch of old records?" Aden asked. Apollo shifted away from him when the man pointed to a specific line, seeming to be in deep thought.

"Yes…" Apollo still had no idea why Aden seemed so interested in them, but decided to go along just for the sake of it. "I'm filling them out."

"What? _You're_ doing that?" Before Apollo could explain anything else, Aden plucked the pen out of his fingers and pulled him up away from the desk. The man shook his head. "Come on, that's not your job!"

Apollo, confused at the way Aden slid into his spot and nonchalantly continued the records like it was nothing, wasn't sure if he had heard right. "Not my job? What do you mean?"

Aden laughed, but Apollo didn't see what was particularly funny. The edge of the pen drummed on the desk with Aden's fingertips. "_I'm_ the secretary! I'm the one who sorts stuff out and does all the boring work—you guys just go out and do your thing when something comes up!"

Apollo blinked. If that was the case, why did he feel like he had just been thrown out? Now he wanted all his work back again, even if it was the most mind numbing series of files he ever had to slog through. It was still _his_ work. "But…I have to do that. Nothing _has_ come up."

"Just relax, Polly!" Aden waved a hand at him, as if shooing him towards the door. "Take a break once in a while. And if nothing's going on yet, nothing's going on! That just means you don't need to be here."

Aden whistled and focused on the forms, zipping through them with speed only an absolute lunatic could replicate. Apollo stood for a minute or two, asking himself exactly what he was supposed to be doing now. That had been the only significant piece of work he needed to do for the Agency—and now he was kicked out of it.

Literally shoved to the side.

He checked the clock. It was a quarter after five now. He grabbed his bag from the edge of the desk and walked out of the room. No cases, no work, nothing to do here. He strode through the living room without a sound, nearing the front door. At least he could go home. Try to do something there. He wasn't sure what, though. Make dinner? He'd been doing that more frequently now, finally overcoming that strange diet of Eldoon noodles he'd had back when he'd been more involved in the Agency—

"Apollo? Where are you going?"

Apollo jumped, searching for the source of the voice. Athena was staring at him from the couch, fiddling with her Mood Matrix. He'd been so caught up in a daze that he hadn't even noticed that she had been there—nor had he cared to check if anyone else was around.

"A-Athena. You nearly gave me a heart attack." Apollo stammered, his hand retreating from the doorknob. His words came out in one swift breath. It was the first time he had spoken in quite a while without being consumed by tension. "I didn't even notice you were there."

"Yeah. Kind of quiet today, isn't it?" she said, gesturing at Trucy's things strewn on the floor and Phoenix's blue jacket thrown on the coffee table. "Since they've gone to the show, I mean. And since Aden went to go do some of your work." She pointed to his bag. "So, where are you getting off to?"

"Oh. Right." Work. No work. He reached towards the door again. "I think I'm going to go home."

Athena raised her eyebrows, glancing at her Mood Matrix. She tilted her head. "As in, your apartment?"

"Yeah." Apollo opened the door, suddenly feeling far more inclined to get out. There was an uncomfortable amount of stuffiness in the room. "There isn't much for me to do here, anyway."

"But…you…" An electronic noise from the Mood Matrix. Athena looked back towards it before shifting back to Apollo. Her hand clasped in front of her heart. "You're walking to your apartment, aren't you? Mind if I join?"

Apollo hesitated. That hadn't been what he'd been expecting. He'd thought she would ask why he was leaving so soon, or tell him to supervise Aden further…the completely non confrontational inquiry made him reconsider his plan to think over the expanse of nothingness he had done throughout the day.

Well, that had never been much of a plan in the first place. Anything would be better than stewing in his own thoughts for fifteen minutes straight. "Sure, if you want. I don't mind much."

Athena closed her Mood Matrix and followed after him rather quickly, as if she had been facing a similar dilemma. She followed after Apollo down the stairs and casually strode next to him, close enough that she could properly give him company but at an adequate enough distance that he felt like he wasn't crowded by her. For once, it seemed that she had struck a nice balance. Even her usually rapid and energetic pace was slower than usual, complementing his speed over the vivacity of her own spirit.

The walked along together in silence—Athena seeming to treat it as a simple stroll, and Apollo trying to figure out why she was acting as though it was just a simple stroll when clearly she had a greater motive for joining him. At first, of course, it had seemed like she'd just been as bored as he was, but then again, she had been fiddling with something on the Mood Matrix, so she had been occupied…he glanced over at her, trying to see if she was working on it again, but something else caught his eye.

Widget was light yellow on her neck.

Concern.

Athena glanced at him, and, noticing that he was looking at the AI, covered it up with her hand again. So that had been what she was doing. Not clasping her heart…covering it up before he could notice and refuse to walk next to her.

"Apollo...it's been a while since we talked, you know."


	7. Athena's Intervention

Apollo should have seen this coming.

He bit his tongue, resisting the urge to curse under his breath. It had been so _obvious. _Checking the Mood Matrix, Widget turning into a different color, her piercing gaze…he should have known Athena would notice him eventually and force him to spill whatever was going on in his head. He stiffened. He had a feeling that this wasn't going to be a normal chat.

_No way in hell am I having a therapy session right now._

"We haven't really had a real conversation in a while, have we?" Athena pressed.

Apollo shrugged his shoulders in an attempt to appear nonchalant. His clipped tone gave away his defensiveness. "I guess not. It's been busy."

"Hectic, you mean." Athena looked at him expectantly, hoping he would elaborate. He only nodded. "How are you holding up?"

"Me? I'm pretty good. Fine." He rubbed the back of his neck, pretending that he had no idea why she was asking the question. His bracelet tightened as the lies slipped off his tongue. "I mean, everything's been normal. What's happened to change anything?"

"Getting someone else involved in the Agency is a pretty big change." She stared at him again. This time her words were more purposeful. "Aden's something new."

_There it is._

"Aden's not that big of a deal." Apollo said. _Awesome_. No matter where he went, Guile was going to tail him until he was driven to insanity. He crossed his arms, trying to ignore his bracelet closing around his wrist. "Why are you asking about him now? He's been here for a week already. He's not _that_ new."

Athena raised her eyebrows. "Really? You think so?"

"Well, yeah. I think we've already talked about him enough. Can't we just treat him, you know, normally?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Athena's look changed into something more reflective of Widget's color. Apollo wondered what he had done to make her believe she had realized something, before promptly biting his tongue. Damn, he had probably let his frustration come through. He should have stuck to one word answers and simple phrases…after all, she couldn't question him forever. Her hand dropped from Widget on her neck, and he saw that it was a strange tinge of bluish yellow, frowning at him distinctively.

Athena sighed.

"Look, Apollo, can we just get to the point?" She stopped and put a hand on his shoulder, making him halt in his tracks. An uncomfortable feeling settled in Apollo's stomach when she looked him straight in the eye. "I just want to talk to you about how you've been feeling recently. With Aden and all. That's it."

Apollo brushed her hand off his shoulder. _Just look confused. Forget the bracelet._ "I don't know why you're asking this, but to be honest, I really don't have anything to tell—"

"Come on. Are you kidding me?" Athena snapped, her hands curling into fists. She waved one at him. "Stop trying to avoid me! You're the one with the lie bracelet, aren't you supposed to be the one who always tells the truth?"

"I'm not—hey, what's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Athena ignored his scowl by returning her own, far more intense glare. "You know what I mean!" She crossed her arms and tapped her foot, looking completely unconvinced. When he didn't respond, she held up Widget at him and pointed to it. It had turned a bright red. "I have technology that literally tracks emotions! Don't you think I would know if you were feeling bad about something? It's called a _Mood_ Matrix!"

"Yeah, stupid!" Widget piped up. Athena wasn't even the slightest bit ashamed at the outburst this time.

"You've got to start talking to me, Apollo. Obviously, I know something's up." She poked him in the chest, her eyes fiery and determined. "So spill!"

Apollo held up his hands, overwhelmed by the sudden shift in tone. There was no way she was going to back down now. He glanced around to get away from her gaze and noticed that a few passersby were also looking at him. There expressions betrayed that their curiosity was quickly turning into judgement. "Okay, Athena, calm down. Let's walk, all right? I have to get to my place sometime."

"Not until you tell me what's been bothering you!" She yelled, refusing to relent. He cringed and nodded fervently.

"We can walk while discussing this, okay? Come on. Walk with me."

He started back down the path, and after a few seconds of contemplation, she begrudgingly followed after him. It was clear in her stiff movements and crossed arms that she had been reluctant to give in, but of course, he was going to have to pay the price.

"Happy now? Since we're walking, _now_ you'll want to tell me?"

_I'm pretty sure it's not a choice,_ Apollo thought. He let out a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, relaxing his shoulders. This entire interaction was exhausting him, and he truly wanted it to be over as quickly as possible…even if it meant letting her pick apart his thoughts. Well, it wasn't as if he was a stranger to that—he'd been doing that to himself all week.

Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to keep it all to himself after all.

"You wanted to ask me how I felt with Aden around, didn't you?" he asked. Athena nodded.

"Yeah, you've seemed a bit…um, a bit off since he joined," she confessed, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Sorry, it just seemed weird to me, plus I was getting strange readings on the Mood Matrix…"

"I mean, first off, I kind of figured you'd analyze that." Apollo replied. He let out a breath, and his bracelet finally loosened. "Besides...you're right. It hasn't been the same with him around."

"You've been a lot more quiet," Athena said, putting a finger to her chin as if collecting evidence for the claim. "You're leaving way earlier, too. Plus you're not swamped with work anymore, which for some reason makes you sadder than you should be." She raised her hands appeasingly at his flat look, casting a nervous smile. "Hey, not all of us are workaholics."

"We can see that." Apollo mumbled. She rolled her eyes and dismissed it, thinking hard about something.

"Actually, I haven't seen you a lot, either. Usually I'm with Aden…" Her eyes flashed and she snapped her fingers, making Apollo jolt. She brightened up almost instantly, coming to come sort of concluding point that Apollo wasn't sure he wanted to know. "I get it! You're feeling left out, aren't you? Because Aden's doing all your work and we're talking with him more and everything?"

Apollo hesitated. Left out? He supposed…that that was only a factor of it. Yes, he hadn't been as involved with everyone else in the Agency as he'd liked, but for some reason, that just didn't click. It was far more than that…but the isolation, the detachment, the out of place feeling he got whenever he was around Aden pointed more securely to Athena's reasoning.

Still…something was missing...

Athena suddenly threw her arms around him, dissipating his train of thought before he could really grasp what he was going at. "A-Athena! What are you _doing?_"

"Apollo, we'd never forget you!" Athena ignored his stammering and squeezed him tightly, reverting back to her lively self. Apollo's face burned. Relief washed over him when she finally let go, and she smiled vibrantly at him. "Why would you even imagine that? No wonder you've been so down! No one's just going to leave you, Apollo, you should know that by now—"

"Yes, yes, I already _do_ know that, thanks." Apollo assured, before she could catch him in another hug. If only his reaction towards Aden was that simple. Was it really worth telling her, though? Even he didn't know what he was really feeling. "I guess…I guess you're right. I am a little left out. But…"

Her eyebrows furrowed when he trailed off and looked away. Widget went from a light blue to yellowish again.

"But WHAT?" The AI shouted before she did, only adding to her expectant look. Apollo's eyes flicked back to her, but he was still piecing it out.

"Listen…most likely, you're right. He's been more in focus, getting more of the work, all that stuff. But there's something else, too. I feel…a little…how do I say this? Um…on edge. That's it."

"'On edge?'" Athena repeated. A quizzical glint flashed in her eyes. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Really, it's hard to explain." He scratched his head, trying to think of a better way to phrase it. How _did_ that work? He thought back to when Aden was around him, when he tried to talk to Aden, when Aden took his work from him..."Tense. There's something about him that makes me feel tense. I just don't know what it is."

Athena was passive for a moment, also considering. He remained patient. Maybe she could help him figure out what had been gnawing at him for all this time, and settle it once and for all.

"Apollo…I'm pretty sure you just need to relax."

Well, it had been worth a shot. He shook his head.

"No, Athena, it's not that. I've tried to relax. I just…can't. It's something else."

She held up a hand, looking as though she'd concluded something. Based on her swift decisiveness, Apollo was certain it wasn't the "something" he was trying to figure out.

"I think you're having some trouble letting Aden fit in. Which is okay." So, she was trying to say he was feeling left out. The same old idea that didn't really ring true with him. His thoughts meandered with each bit of counseling she gave him. "Maybe you just…you need to try to talk to him more."

_If he'd talk back, I'd love to take that advice._

"Calm down. Let him do his thing. Just…take it easy."

_He's already been doing his thing for a week. But I don't think I'm going to be any calmer anytime soon._

"You need to learn how to adapt to the situation. Don't fight it. You're just going to feel worse."

_I don't even know what I'm fighting!_

Athena exhaled, and Apollo wondered if she could sense some of what he was really thinking about her guidance. "You'll figure it out eventually. For now, you just have to let everything happen as it happens."

She still didn't get it, and he still hadn't figured it out. Looks like he was just going to have to follow some aspect of her attempted guidance, because he really couldn't explain himself any further. _I'll understand after a while, probably. Hopefully._

"Athena…thanks." he finally said, dropping the issue entirely. Widget turned a nice shade of green and she smiled positively at him. He didn't want to trouble her any further. Eventually, he would get around to being able to say the truth. For now, he would let her rest easy through false gratefulness. "I think I'll do that."

The rest of the walk to his apartment was just small talk and Athena trying to motivate him further, to which he put up an optimistic facade. Yet as soon as he reached home, all of his reservations fled. He couldn't stop thinking, thinking, _thinking_ about exactly what was causing him to shy away from Aden so much. Self doubt consumed the crevices of his brain.

There had to be something. Because if there wasn't…

He would just be catching himself turning more bitter and jealous as time went on.


	8. Genuine Connection

"Hey, Polly!"

"Hello, Aden."

Another day, another attempt. Apollo had walked into the Agency to see Aden still at his desk, working on a stack of records. The young man didn't seem exhausted at all…instead, it he seemed absolutely delighted to be overcome with so much work, and Apollo began to wonder if any of that was even necessary.

Today Athena, Trucy, and Phoenix were nowhere to be found. Phoenix's empty coffee mug was resting near the sink, and Trucy's magic items were scattered all over the couch, so they must have been here sometime in the morning. Only Athena seemed to be truly missing, but her hairbrush was lying on the coffee table, so she may have stopped by before going out as well.

That only left Aden and him in the Agency.

_Of course._

"Aden, where is everyone?" he asked, leaning by the door and glancing back outside. Everything also seemed much neater than before. Had Phoenix tidied up last night for something? That was a weird thought.

"They all went for some big show Trucy had today." Aden said, scribbling without a care. He didn't seem bothered by being alone at all. "I didn't really want to go, with all the work I had left…didn't they tell you about it?" Apollo shook his head. Why else would he be asking about it now? Aden put his hand on his chin, as if hoping to help him find a reason why they didn't let him know, before simply shrugging in response. "I mean, Athena did say something about having you give me company. I didn't really mind doing work here, but she insisted you'd be okay with that."

Right. Athena _would_ do something like that, especially with the discussion they'd had yesterday. Apollo sighed to himself, shaking his head. She really thought she'd been right, hadn't she? She wanted him to adapt, or something along those lines.

_You need to try to talk to him more._

Ah, that was it. In any other situation, that might have been a good idea. If Aden would say something besides a few words to him, however…

But what was the harm in trying again? He didn't really have anything else to do—Aden was literally at his desk, doing all his work for him. The man seemed quite interested in all the files, absorbed in them as though he was editing novels instead of filling out forms. Apollo wasn't sure if the secretary would listen to him through all the work, based on what had happened last time. Perhaps it was a lost cause.

Still, he couldn't stand here all day. He had to find _something_ to get done…

"Oh, wait, Aden," he said, an idea forming in an instant. Why hadn't he thought of _that_ before? "You know, we actually still have to organize the closet in your room." He'd already taken all of his own stuff out of there and put them in his own closet, hiding Clay's jacket all the way on the top so it wouldn't become an unwarranted source of discussion again. It was safe to let Aden go through everything there now. "I could use some help with that."

"Sure! I can help." Aden stood up and stretched, cracking his knuckles. "I mean, I've been doing this stuff forever. Let's do that."

Aden followed Apollo to the other room and opened the door, peering inside curiously. He let out a low whistle. "Yeah, there's no way you could have done all of this alone." He stepped inside and looked around, raising an eyebrow. "Hey, where's the space—"

"I cleared out all of my stuff from here a while ago." Apollo said, waving a hand to dismiss the subject. He wasn't going to get worked up about that any longer. "The main thing is, Trucy keeps throwing all of her magic show props in here. That's why it seems so crowded. We should start by putting all of that stuff on one shelf before even going near all those other boxes. Those are Mr. Wright's files, and Trucy takes after him in the disorganized category."

"All right, I'm on it." Aden grabbed a broom with stars painted on the handle first, staring at it rather quizzically. "Is this one of the twenty brooms Mr. Wright was talking about?"

"Might be. Put it over there." Apollo picked up a bird cage and placed it on the top most shelf. "She has way too many things. Even I've lost count."

"Better get to it, then."

Within twenty minutes, all filled with questions, pulling things out of corners, and shoving stuff into spaces, Aden had gotten the majority of Trucy's things organized into one shelf, while Apollo had only managed to snag a tenth of her things on a place on the ledge. Aden was quite fast and easily interpreted where everything was supposed to go, even managing to keep all the props in specific sections on the shelf itself. In another five minutes, Aden had grabbed the rest of her things and set them up neatly, while Apollo was still wondering where on earth he would put an empty picture frame and whether that had even been part of her act.

"Here, give me that." Aden said, taking it out of his hands and placing it amongst a variety of other items. "That's small, so we'll put it with all the regular, small things. There we go. Now she's good. Want to do Mr. Wright's stuff now?"

"Um…all right." Apollo hadn't been expecting him to move this quickly, especially not with Trucy's barrage of things. Aden immediately got to taking out all of Mr. Wright's files and organizing them by date. Apollo tried to sift through the records, but only managed to organize papers from one day in ten minutes, whereas Aden had already finished a box. The secretary placed it on the second shelf and moved on to the next one with the same speed.

"You're really good at this." Apollo couldn't help but admit, after Aden had finished another box and took his from him. Even though Aden was going through the boxes faster than he could understand, Apollo felt like everything was a lot more…normal. He felt much lighter just watching Aden work today than he had felt throughout the week. "Your mom must have loved your room when you were a kid."

Aden laughed, shaking his head. "Trust me, it's all experience." He paused for a moment, smiling to himself. "Plus, I didn't really have a mom around to tell me any of that."

"Wait…sorry, what?" Apollo raised his eyebrows, completely taken off guard. Aden just lifted his shoulders and kept smiling, although it didn't seem as joyful as usual.

"Yeah, it's usually a little strange to think about for most people." Aden rubbed the back of his head, putting the files to the side for a second. "I didn't really know my parents. I was raised mostly in an orphanage when I was a kid. I think they must have dropped me off there when I was four or five, but I'm not that sure. I don't remember much other than the fact that I never saw them again." At Apollo's wide eyes, Aden waved his hand and chuckled. "Oh come on, that was a long time ago! You don't need to be so concerned about it now."

"Oh, I…I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"No need to be sorry about not knowing something! Plus, it's not really your fault."

But he _was_ sorry, and he _did_ feel like it was his fault. He had never considered that Aden could have fallen in the same predicament as him…every single opinion he had formed of him was that of someone who managed to fit in at everything, someone with such a frustratingly perfect lifestyle and demeanor that they couldn't possibly be a real, honest person. Only now did Apollo finally understand. Being brought up in such circumstances always developed character…he himself admitted that if he had never been an orphan, he wouldn't have grown to be so determined to keep fighting for the law. In Aden's case, it seemed to have driven the man to be positive in all of his actions—perhaps in an attempt to be a part of any family he had been introduced to.

Now Apollo knew that he had been wrong to ever feel so put off by Aden's presence.

"Hey man, are you okay?" Aden asked, jolting him out of his thoughts. Apollo glanced over to see worried eyes looking up at him. "Sorry if I talked about that too much. I didn't mean to make everything so depressing all of a sudden…damn, this discussion got heavy real quick."

"No, no, it's not that." Apollo clarified, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked away. "I was just…thinking about something else."

"You were? Oh, about what?"

About not wanting to talk to Aden. About thinking that Aden had something about him that wasn't right. About feeling guilty about everything he had ever thought about Aden before.

"You know, I was just thinking about that it was ironic that—that we both never really met our parents."

Aden blinked at him for a good few seconds.

"Hold on, you—_you're_ an orphan too?"

Apollo nodded. "Yeah, I am. Not sure about my parents…a lot similar to you, actually."

"No way." Aden gaped at him, shaking his head. "_Really?_ This entire time…I never thought that someone else…"

"Me neither." Apollo replied, his voice dropping to a murmur. "I always thought…it was just me."

Aden stood up all of a sudden and clapped Apollo's shoulder, beaming far more brightly than ever before. For once, Apollo didn't cringe. "Hey, that's not so bad! That's not so bad at all!"

"What do you mean?" Apollo asked, as Aden continued to grin. Not so bad…that they were both orphans? He didn't think that that could ever be interpreted as a good thing.

"That we both met each other recently," Aden continued, "And that we both happened to have the same problem as kids. Someone who actually gets it! I never thought I'd see the day."

"Oh…right." That was true. No one before Aden had ever truly known the feeling of growing up without any real solid guidance. Trucy had met Phoenix far before she could experience such a thing, Athena could still recall and hold on to some of the things her mother left behind for her…even Clay had known his mother as well, and Apollo had been there when she wasn't. There _was_ that time that Dhurke had taken him in, but that only lasted a few years before he was shipped away.

Abandoned, stuck without any lead as to where he came from, who he was…now that he thought about it, Aden was the only other person he knew who'd never even _seen_ a blood relative, much less interacted with them. Oh, god, there were just so many questions he could think about now, so many things that had always bothered him and ate at his mind but no one would be able to answer…

"Are you alright?" Aden pressed. All the thoughts scrambling in Apollo's brain jumped to the tip of his tongue.

"Did…did you ever think of changing your last name?" Apollo asked hesitantly. Aden stared at him for a second, before stroking his chin.

"Well…not my first name. But I never really had a last name. Guess my parents thought I'd track them down," Aden responded, "Sounds logical, really. I think that if I'd known my full name, I would have went after them sometime. Still wonder if I should…I just don't know where to start." He tilted his head at Apollo, a question lighting in his eyes as well. "You made up your last name too, didn't you? I always thought it was funny that you were called 'Justice.' Now it makes sense. Especially since they made us pick one when we were kids…seriously, not a good idea."

"I…I didn't, actually," Apollo said, "I thought about it lots of times but…I just couldn't bring myself to do it." He shoved his hands into his pockets, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Being a lawyer _is_ kind of unfortunate with everyone laughing at me, but…I don't know. I'm not sure if I made the right choice, especially since they gave us that chance."

"No, I get you." Aden said. The man nodded his head, understanding gleaming in his eyes. "But I'm pretty sure you made the right choice. I thought I was being _clever_ when I picked 'Guile.' You know what Guile means? Sly and cunning. I sound like a god damn villain." Aden put a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. "I…just living with that knowledge…even I find it pretty stupid. Never trust ten year olds to pick a name for life."

Apollo actually smirked a bit at that, surprised that it somehow made him feel a bit better about himself. Aden shrugged it off and continued. "It's nice that you know about these kinds of struggles. Makes it easier to manage." The man cast him a genuine smile, seeming wholeheartedly grateful. "We orphans always need to stick together, right?"

Apollo paused for a second. Truthfully, if he hadn't known Aden was also an orphan, he may still have had second doubts about him. The guilt resurfaced again. He should have trusted him. After a brief pause, he shook his head. "To be honest with you…I'm not sure. You're the only other orphan I've met so far who…was abandoned for so long. Plus…" He swallowed, taking a breath. "We didn't really get off to a good start, did we?"

"Never mind that. Stuff like that takes time, anyway." Aden said, casually batting the subject away. "The point is, we orphans _should_ stick together, now that we've met. Who else are we going to talk to about all those things? No one else would get this whole last name conflict, as you've seen. Because no one else understands much."

"Yes…you're right about that." Apollo replied. He sighed and decided to go through with it. "Listen, I'm sorry for not really talking to you a lot. I've just been a bit wound up—"

"That happens to the best of us. Don't think about it too much." Aden interrupted, grasping his hand in a firm handshake. "Let's just start over. Hi, I'm Aden Guile. Glad to meet you."

Apollo hesitated. He had been off about everything. Aden hadn't been as bad as he'd thought…he shouldn't have jumped to conclusions…

But looking at Aden's happiness now, he realized he still had a second chance. Maybe he really could try again.

"All right…" He shook Aden's hand lightly in response. "I'm Apollo Justice. And...and I'm fine."

"That's right." Aden beamed at him. "I hope we'll stick together in the future."

And for once, Apollo didn't feel so uncomfortable smiling back.

"I hope so, too."


	9. A Reluctant Break

Obviously, one conversation wasn't enough to erase every last one of Apollo's self doubts of the matter, and it certainly wasn't enough to leave him bounding about absolutely free of any worry in the world. If anything, getting rid of all of his perspectives of Aden as a flawed person had only revealed more thoughts about flaws of his own, and had left him with an issue far greater than the strange feeling he'd been trying to discover before getting to know Aden better. Something much worse.

An overwhelming, crushing sense of guilt.

He had been thinking about it all through last night into the morning, wondering what had ever persuaded or indicated to him that Aden was not a good fit for the Agency. He felt very bad now with the knowledge that, just like him, Aden had been abandoned…and had probably been looking for a family. Through some stroke of luck, the man had fallen into a perfect one—the Wright Anything Agency was nothing if not warm and welcoming.

Only Apollo had tried to make him feel out of place by claiming that there was something wrong with him, something not right, something he had probably dwelled on himself since he was a child living alone. Feeling left out and so shoving him away from a second chance.

_Hell, I really messed up._

He couldn't go back to the Agency today. Things would be far too awkward to deal with.

First off, there was Athena, who he knew right off the bat would swarm him with questions on how everything went and whether he understood how he'd been acting now.

Then there was Trucy, who would probably talk to him at great lengths about her magic show before realizing they were talking about something else and would force him to recount everything for her, without missing a beat.

_Then_ there would be Phoenix, who would listen to it all before talking to him about it later on or dropping advice on him at a time he least needed or suspected it.

Finally, Aden would probably go on about it as well, and then tell everyone the conversation they'd had yesterday about both of them being orphans, resulting in the questions and the advice dropping again. And all through it Athena and Apollo would know how guilty Apollo really felt about judging Aden incorrectly at first.

Too much to deal with.

He needed a break.

Mulling over it for a grand total of thirty seconds, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Phoenix. It wasn't as if he was going to have much work to do anyway, and after all, he rarely asked for a day off. Besides, even if he did manage to go to the Agency, he was sure everything would just weigh him down and prevent him from getting anything done, making it pointless to go in the first place.

"Hey kid, what's up?"

"M-Mr. Wright, hello." Apollo had forgotten that Phoenix answered the phone extremely quickly, and caught himself stuttering. _Don't act like something's wrong, damn it._ "It's Apollo."

"Yeah, Apollo, I know. I saved your number on my phone. Your name comes up, remember?" Apollo resisted the urge to smack himself in the forehead. He could almost hear Phoenix smirking from the other side of the line. "What happened?"

"Nothing, really, I just wanted to ask if…if I could take a break today." Wow, that had been harder to say than he'd imagined it.

There were a few seconds of silence on Phoenix's end.

"Did you just…ask for some time _off?_"

"Yeah, if it's not a problem." Apollo replied, his words falling fast out of his mouth. "Since there's not that much work for me to do there and I kind of feel like I won't get much done today. Unless there is a lot of work to do, then I'll come, definitely. It's just that I'd rather—"

"Okay, slow down." Phoenix said, and Apollo immediately stopped. Phoenix's laughing tone had shifted to one of worry. "Are you all right? I was just surprised because you never ask for a break, is all."

"I'm fine, I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I never thought you'd actually ask me for some time off. Which is fine, by the way. Even though it's a little sudden." Apollo cursed under his breath. It would have been better if he'd called yesterday…less suspicion. "Did something come up, or…?"

"No, it's just that I—I forgot to tell you…I'm hanging out with Klavier today."_ What? It's been ages since I've met Klavier outside of the courtroom, why would I want to—_"It's been a while since we've met outside of the courtroom, so I guessed we should catch up." Apollo winced as his bracelet tightened.

"Oh. That's good, have fun!" Phoenix said, sounding far more relaxed. "Sorry, kid. I thought that with all the stuff going on recently, you were getting too wound up."

"I'm all right. I wanted to meet him, that's all." His bracelet clamped around his wrist again. He shook his hand and pulled at it with his fingers, resting the phone in the curve of his neck. It always bothered him more when he was the one lying.

_You're the one with the lie bracelet, aren't you supposed to be the one who always tells the truth?_

Apollo hesitated for a moment, rubbing his wrist. He was really getting into the habit of lying, and he knew, as both a lawyer and through his own jurisdiction, that that was never a good thing.

"That's good. Where are you guys going?"

He moved his other hand back to the phone and rested his arm at his side, leaning against the counter. "I'm going to call him after I finish talking to you, actually. Then we'll see." His bracelet loosened, and he sighed.

"All right, all right." Phoenix laughed. "I can't believe you finally asked for a break…anyway, have fun with that!" Three beeps. Phoenix had hung up the phone.

Apollo let out a deep breath, scrolling through his contacts. Damn his morals and damn his bracelet. He prayed that Klavier was too busy when he finally found his number, hoped that he had some giant concert when he pressed call…

Klavier picked up on the first ring.

"Ah, Herr Forehead. Missed me already?"

Apollo's eyebrow twitched. He covered his face with his hand.

_Today's going to be a long day._


	10. Ein Echter Freund

"Let me tell you, Forehead, it's been a long time since I've actually gotten to tell you a story like this. This isn't even the end."

_Of course it's not._

The moment Apollo had asked if Klavier wanted to catch up somewhere, the rockstar had leapt to the idea as if he didn't actually have a few case files to complete for Edgeworth and a concert to attend during the weekend, pretending as though he was completely free to take up Apollo's time.

When Apollo had very politely insisted that Klavier should do his work and stick to his schedule, Klavier had very graciously (and dramatically) said that his schedule doesn't work by rigid rules and that his friends were far more important than any old piece of paperwork or song sheet (and had slipped in somewhere that he was tired of work as well). Apollo had found Klavier at the shake place where they usually talked earlier than expected, and by the look on the rockstar's face, there was going to be a lot for him to listen to.

On the other occasions when they had hung out, Apollo hadn't found it bad that he had to listen to Klavier's recent escapades, whether they were in the field of music or in the world of law. He found it enjoyable, sometimes, and highly amusing to hear. But today, he just couldn't focus on anything Klavier said. Everything seemed to pass over his head, and he found himself spacing out more than being lost in the story itself.

Klavier, on the other hand, didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong yet.

"So _then_—Forehead, get this—then this little fraulein gives up on all those tons of spatulas, and starts sending me full on gift baskets. _Gift baskets!_ Mein gott! Forget the spatulas, at least I could have had one for every dish—I don't even know what to _do_ with gift baskets! I don't even_ like_ gift baskets!"

Klavier closed his eyes, chuckled to himself, and put two fingers to his forehead. Apollo sipped his shake. The scenario was utterly ridiculous, yet although he knew it was funny, he couldn't bring himself to be all too interested in it. He stared pensively at the checkered tiles behind Klavier, remaining passive.

"Oh, I never thought…of all things…I would be plagued by _gifts._ But gottverdammt if I'm going to accept every single one of them. They are making my kitchen look like trash, and I don't even know half the foods or cooking things she stuffed in them!"

Apollo swirled the chocolate in his glass with a straw. Klavier opened his eyes and looked straight at him, his eyes intense and gleaming with the apparent humor of the situation.

"Gift baskets, Forehead. Fifty. Gift. Baskets."

Apollo took another sip, and swirled the drink again. He looked at the table, then at the chocolate ring that the edge of his glass formed on the wood. A drop must have slid down the glass before he had decided to get a straw. He should have at least used a napkin before when he was drinking it.

"Crazy, I tell you. Spatulas and gift baskets. For a rockstar. I don't understand."

He didn't understand, either. He shouldn't have ordered the same thing. The new flavor may have interested him a bit longer. Of course, it didn't have chocolate in it, so he dismissed it. Truly, that type of mindset was unhealthy and outdated. He needed to get used to new things. Who knew if chocolate would stay on the menu for long? If he didn't try anything, he wouldn't be able to live without chocolate. And no chocolate meant that he wouldn't want to come here very often, and that meant it wouldn't be one of his favorite places, and that would make Klavier sad because Klavier liked to hang out here when they decided to meet—

"Forehead. _Forehead_. Ist dein Gedanken woanders? And…you don't care. Are you even listening to me?"

Klavier snapped his fingers in front of Apollo's face. Apollo jolted, but did not look up from the chocolate ring on the table.

"Yeah. I was listening." Apollo waved Klavier's hand away, still lost in his thoughts. What should he try, then? Vanilla or pumpkin? "You know, about that girl. Maybe you should just accept that she's going to mail two or three baskets to you a day. There's nothing you can really do about it." He sipped his chocolate shake. "Or you should try to move somewhere else. That way it won't matter, because you'll be so far away that she can't bother you."

"Okay, _wow._" Klavier said, holding up a hand. He grinned. "I guess I'll just go do that, then. Move away from my beautiful home. My amazing acoustic studio. Everything else I love. Perfect idea, Forehead. That way I'll definitely escape the terrible _gift baskets."_

Apollo took another sip, then pushed away the glass. It wasn't very appealing anymore. He remained silent and looked at the chocolate syrup congealing on the bottom of the glass.

Klavier blinked.

"Wait…you weren't _serious_, were you?"

No response.

"Mein Gott," Klavier said, his eyes wide. The prosecutor stared at him for a while, before leaning back in his chair and shaking his head. He seemed honestly surprised. "I…I cannot even begin to tell you how insane that is. First of all, I love my home." He put up a fist, holding up one finger. Apollo knew he was going to begin a list. As Klavier spoke, more fingers joined accordingly. "Second, why would I leave to escape _gift baskets_, of all things? Third, there is _no way_ I can find space to keep twenty gift baskets every week. And fourth, what happened to you? You don't seem right."

"I'm fine." Apollo said, shaking the chocolate in the glass. He didn't move to actually drink it, though. "I really am fine."

"Oh, yes?" Klavier's smile dropped, and he leaned closer, the edges of his fingers held together almost diplomatically. There was no laughing glint in his eyes any longer. "Looks like I object, Herr Forehead. First of all, you're not drinking your chocolate, which I _know_ is your favorite. Second, you didn't even smirk at the entire gift basket thing. Third, why are you not looking at me at all? And fourth—do I even need a fourth? In that case, you look miserable."

Apollo sighed, suddenly feeling burdened by exhaustion. He looked back up, but couldn't find the energy to argue.

"Drop it, Klavier. I don't feel like it."

Klavier furrowed his brow. "So you _are_ miserable."

"Please, just drop it."

Klavier looked at him skeptically, but left it. The rockstar sipped his own drink for a while, some variety of strawberry and mango fusion. Apollo wondered if he would even_ like_ that, let alone get used to it.

The silence grew awkward. Klavier coughed and wiped his mouth, placing his drink to the side. "So, I heard from Prosecutor Edgeworth that there's a new assistant at the Agency? How's that going?"

Apollo paused, shaking away the thought of smoothies for a moment. "Prosecutor Edgeworth? How did he know that so soon?"

"These exist, Forehead." Klavier pulled out his phone and waved it at him before putting it on the table. "Herr Wright called him a few days ago. Prosecutor Edgeworth was complaining to me about how he wouldn't shut up about it. Of course, that just means he's also happy that Herr Wright is excited." Klavier raised an eyebrow. "So, you'll finally pay attention to me, this means? What other information about the world of prosecution may I tell you about, oh great Detektiv Forehead?"

Apollo straightened in his chair, his posture growing more rigid. "I was just asking."

"Were you?" Apollo didn't take the bait. Klavier shrugged. "Whatever you say, then, Justice." The prosecutor shrugged his shoulders, rolling his eyes. "I'm sure it's _nothing_, as it always is. That you're _absolutely fine._ That I _don't need to worry._" At every emphasis, Klavier held up quotations in the air with his fingers. "After all, you've never willingly told me if something's wrong, have you? No, that would be completely _untrue._"

Apollo narrowed his eyes. "No need to be so dramatic about it."

Klavier glared back at him. "Me? Being dramatic? Look in the mirror, Herr Forehead."

Something bitter sprang to Apollo's tongue before he could stop himself. "I'm sorry, but I don't check it as often as you do." He should have held that back…but out of his frustration, he was only encouraged to keep at it.

Unfortunately, Klavier was also quick to respond. "Really? I can see why."

"Out of those sunglasses, it's a miracle you can." Apollo scoffed. Klavier took them off of the top of his head where they had been resting and put them to the side, looking genuinely offended.

"That was a low blow, Forehead. Considering your excuse for hair."

Apollo's eyes flashed. "There's _nothing_ wrong with my hair!"

"Just like there's _nothing_ wrong with you now?" Klavier leaned closer, smirking. Apollo felt the heat rising to his face.

"That's right! What's it to you?" He slammed a hand on the table as though he were in court, making Klavier jerk back and eliciting the gaze of a few unwanted surrounding onlookers. "I'm totally fine—ow, damn it!"

His hand retreated from the table in an instant, pulling at the bracelet around his wrist again with a grimace. Lies, lies, _lies_…he broke his fiery gaze and ran a hand through his hair as soon as it loosened, feeling his breath coming in shaky intervals as he tried not to give into the aggravation and tear some strands off of his head. He cursed, softly enough so that the other observers around him wouldn't remain captivated by his actions.

Klavier only stared at him. Silence befell them for a few precious moments.

Then concern overcame hesitancy.

"Um…Apollo…are you all right?" Klavier asked gingerly, gesturing to his hand. "And—and I mean that literally. You're not hurt, are you?"

"I'm—no, I'm not hurt." Apollo slanted his eyes away. "My wrist…I just got that pain because I hit the table so hard." He winced again, biting his tongue. Klavier didn't look convinced.

"Are you sure? I've never seen—"

"It's okay, you don't need to ask about it that much." Apollo interrupted, weaving his words so they wouldn't afflict him as much. Different ways to keep himself from revealing the whole truth without a lie. "I'll be fine soon."

Klavier paused, licked his lips, and took a sip out of his shake. The man made no effort to hide his uneasiness. "I'm sorry, Forehead. I didn't realize—forgive me for making fun of you like that. I wasn't aware that you were stressed to that extent."

Apollo shook his head, forgetting his previous irritation in an instant. "No, no, Klavier, you don't need to apologize for anything."

"Ach. Even I can act like an idiot sometimes. _Dummkopf._"

"Klavier, no." Apollo took a deep breath, stopping Klavier's hand before the man could smack his own forehead. "It's…it's my fault, really. I shouldn't have met up with you today. There was just…it's a long, long story."

"Well…" Klavier bit his lip, seeming inclined to say more, but holding it back at the last moment. "If that's what you say."

They were quiet again.

Apollo finally gave up.

"Klavier, to tell you the truth, I feel really awful about everything right now." Apollo said, sighing and leaning back in his chair. Klavier listened intently, watching without a word. "I should have told you earlier, but I didn't, and I think you really should know. That's why I snapped at you like that. It's all very complicated. I don't know where to start." He thought for a second before his eyes landed on his shake, and he pointed to it immediately. "I honestly think I'm going mental. Do you know I was trying to decide whether I should stick with chocolate or change a flavor for all that time in the beginning when you were going on about that girl and the gift baskets? The _entire_ time! Why was I thinking so much about that? Why the hell would I even want to _do_ that? Chocolate is my favorite!" He passed a hand over his face, as if hoping to hide how stupid he felt explaining it all. "And it's all because of that assistant guy, Aden. Damn it. I'm the very worst. I swear. The _worst._"

Klavier touched Apollo's hand, guiding it away from crushing his face. Concern was evident in the man's eyes. "Why? What happened?"

"Damn it. Damn it all. I don't get it." Apollo looked down at the table again, his eyes darting this way and that as he tried to piece out the conflicting emotions. "This new guy, he's so nice to me, he's so good to everyone else, but for the past week, I just—oh, God, I think I was beginning to _hate_ him, Klavier. But I had no reason to. I screwed up." He took a gulp out of his shake, and his voice lowered. "I couldn't relax around him for some reason. And since he was driving me over the edge, I thought there was something wrong with him. But…it turns out he's an orphan too, apparently. What are the odds?"

"So…let me figure this out for a minute." Klavier raised his eyebrows. "You feel bad because you thought there was something suspicious about this…Aden, yes?" Apollo nodded, and Klavier put a hand to his chin. "Good. Anyway, you feel guilty for being suspicious about this Aden since he turned out to be an orphan?"

"That's one way to put it." Apollo admitted. "I wasn't talking to him at all. Every time I saw him I never felt like being in the Agency, and kept thinking there was something wrong, all the time, because he was so happy—"

Klavier held up a hand. "Okay, so you didn't talk to him much _because_ you thought there was something wrong so you feel guilty now because…he's an orphan?"

"Essentially, yes." Apollo said. Klavier still looked confused.

"You—forgive me, I don't get it." Klavier's tone was as puzzled as the man looked. "What does being an orphan have to do with anything? I understand you being an orphan, I get that, but I don't know why you would think so much of the fact that _he_ is an orphan—"

"No, it's because it's pretty obvious that he was trying to find somewhere to fit in, and I was kicking him out because I also felt left out."

"Wait, but weren't you suspicious?"

"No, I talked to Athena, and she said I must be left out or something too."

"Cykes? How does she know what you are—oh, that little mood sensor thing she always has with her, I see why she advised you. But how do you know that he's an orphan? Did she tell you that to make you feel differently?"

"No, he told me himself. I was trying to talk to him after Athena told me to do something like that to feel better, and then it just came up somehow."

"Then…Forehead, _what?_"

"I don't know, Klavier, I don't know what I'm doing!"

Klavier sucked in a breath, and put his drink to the side. Apollo stayed still when Klavier reached over and clapped him on the shoulder. The prosecutor's eyes betrayed that he was still slightly unsure of some parts of the story, but they were also sharp with new understanding.

"Forehead. Let me ask you some things now. Because you talk far too fast and I believe you don't have any idea what you are saying yourself." Klavier moved away again, closing his eyes contemplatively. "All right. You talked to Athena about this. She told you to talk to the assistant—what's his name—Aden. Then you talked to Aden. He said he was an orphan. So, my question is—what on earth are you fretting about?"

"What am I…" Apollo drummed his fingers, trying to find the words. "That I treated him like someone who was really out of place when he was trying to find a place in a family. He told me we should stick together since we're orphans and everything, and I was—"

"_Forehead!_" Klavier threw his arms up in the air, and before long, the rockstar was laughing under his breath. Apollo looked at him, bewildered. _Laughing?_

"What's so funny?" Apollo questioned, feeling very self conscious. Klavier covered his mouth, but his eyes were still gleaming.

"If you talked to the man himself and he said that, what are you so worried about?" Klavier repeated. "Justice, you are too sensitive! You already talked to the guy! He said it was fine! That you should be friends! What is _wrong_ with you?"

"No, Klavier, it's not just that…" Apollo tried to clarify. He had no idea how else he was supposed to explain this. "I'm kind of guilty, you see, because I didn't treat him as well as I should have at first…"

"And now you have another chance!" Klavier said. Well…yes, that was true. It did seem that Aden didn't care about his previous behavior. Suddenly, Apollo found himself at a loss. What _was_ he tense about? "Apollo. Look at me. I have some advice for you as well."

Apollo's eyes flicked up to Klavier, who now seemed very clear and positive about the situation. Klavier tapped him on the wrist.

"Calm the hell down."

"C-Calm down? I am calm!" Apollo protested. Klavier chuckled again.

"I doubt you are calm even in your dreams. But anyway, in this case, you are clearly overreacting." Klavier said it extremely casually, still smiling at him. "You need to take time to breathe. You think too much of everything you do. And that is why you are guilty for nothing. Yes, Forehead, _nothing._" Klavier didn't let him intercede, and kept going forward. "First of all, don't keep thinking about this too much. And secondly, why don't you just treat it like a good thing? You seem to hate the situation you're in, anyway, even though it is a really good thing to be in now."

Apollo wavered in his objections and focused on the last thing Klavier said. "Wait, a good thing? How?"

"Listen, I'm only telling you to give him a chance as well." Klavier lifted his shoulders. "But after what you've been through recently…don't you believe it is good that you're getting someone you can relate to more? A new friend? I am not meaning to be prying, but…I'm sure there is a gap for you to fill."

_A gap?_ Apollo rested on that thought for a good while. What was that supposed to indicate? He thought of the circumstances he'd faced that could create such a rift. Klavier had said recently—

Then it hit him.

"Oh, I—I see what you mean."

_Clay._

Klavier nodded solemnly, not wanting to push the subject too far. "A new friend could be a good thing in that sense for you."

It had only been a few weeks since the…incident. Apollo still hadn't quite forgotten everything that had happened…the jacket thrown away in the storage room had been a sign of that. It was too soon, too soon for him to wonder about that. Replacing Clay? He could never.

But then again…it wasn't really _replacing_, was it? All of them knew for a tragic fact that Clay was gone already, off somewhere in space and never coming back down again. There was nothing to wait for. He'd spent all that time just a while ago chasing after the astronaut, the space mission, the _murder_, trying to redeem the last piece of his dearest friend. And now that he'd finally accomplished that, Clay was no longer a major part of his life.

Clay had moved on…perhaps it was time he moved on as well.

"I think…I'll give it a shot, Klavier." Apollo stated. Aden did have some qualities that reminded him of Clay, anyway. Both of them were happy people, nice, fun around others, talkative—"I'll definitely give it a shot."

Klavier breathed heavily, rolling his eyes. "Thank god. I thought you'd say no as usual. Hey, already making a difference, I see." Apollo looked at him flatly, and Klavier laughed. "Forehead, you know that I'm kidding. So now that your little drama is finally over, do you care to actually finish your shake? It's really bothering me. You love chocolate too much to leave anything behind."

Apollo drank the rest of it quickly, refreshed from his favorite flavor. He felt a lot more optimistic now. Perhaps it really would be a nice change after his loss of Clay. "Thanks, Klavier."

"You are most welcome, Forehead." Klavier said, smirking at him. "For sorting out your brain. Now, will you listen to my problem about these gift baskets? It's driving me insane!"

Apollo gave in and actually began to pay attention, suddenly free of any toll on his mind. Orphans had to stick together—so he would try. For that, and for Clay.

And just like that, he finally had something to look forward to.


	11. Return to Work

After a little consideration upon taking leave of Klavier, Apollo decided to return to the Agency for the second half of the day. It was only mid-afternoon, after all, and he had yet to talk to Phoenix or Trucy, as they had been absent the entire time he had been working out what was going on with himself. Besides, it would be worth meeting Athena and Aden and actually engaging in proper conversation with the both of them. He was sure something must have come up for them to talk about—if not, he had Klavier's story about that insane gift basket thing to tell them.

He still hoped Phoenix had finally gotten a case for him to work on, however—it had been longer than usual since any crime had occurred, which was a bit strange considering that the city they lived in had enough bizarre incidents to keep them on their toes at all times.

He stopped by his apartment for a moment to change into his work clothes, throwing his jacket to the side and putting on his red vest before heading out the door again. He was a good ways down the street when his phone suddenly buzzed in his pocket.

_Four missed calls?_

They were all from the Athena. He also saw a text message about picking up the phone flash briefly on the screen. He didn't bother to respond. He was right near the Agency, anyway, and considering that she had called only in the last five minutes—presumably when he was at his house—whatever it was could still be discussed now.

He looked down the path. Yes, the Agency was in sights now—he could see the sign—

And the dormant police car parked in front of it.

_Wait, what happened?_

Upon seeing the police car right in front of the Agency and the Agency door swung upon, Apollo's pace quickened considerably. He steps grew brisk and he sped the rest of the way to the Agency, worry consuming him in an instant. Had one of them gotten hurt? No, otherwise there would be an ambulance. Was it a case? He prayed it was only about a case. Still, Athena had called him four times in a row, and that last message was in all caps, too…

"Mr. Wright?" He stepped in the doorway, peering inside to see Phoenix, Athena, Trucy, Aden, and two police officers all turning towards him. He paused, taking in the scene. The two officers had their hands on Aden's shoulders, and one of them was holding handcuffs. Phoenix and Athena had been facing them, positioned as if they were debating something in court…he caught Trucy hiding behind the couch, only her eyes and top hat visible to him. He stared at each of them, trying to understand the situation, and took a step back when one of the police officers glared at him. "Um…if you don't mind me asking…what's going on?"

"Another one of you?" The angry policeman groused, his eyes shooting daggers at Phoenix as if it was the defense attorney's fault that Apollo had chosen that exact moment to walk in the room. Apollo held up a hand apologetically, trying not to seem to intrusive although his brain was racing with question upon question. The police man scoffed. "Let me explain it again, then, so all of you get it. Jeff, please handcuff him already."

The other policeman lifted the handcuffs and snapped them around Aden's wrists in an instant.

Apollo's eyes widened.

"Wait, what are you—?"

"Listen, before you start arguing with me too. You especially, lady." The first officer pointed to Athena, who's hands had curled into fists. Widget burned a raging red, matching her furious frown. "We're here to arrest this guy, Aden Guile. He's coming with us on account of murder. There's nothing you can do right now to change that."

_Murder?_

Apollo looked at Aden, who seemed especially helpless. The man looked to be in some state of shock, based on his silence and his eyes staring off somewhere in the distance. His gaze gleamed with fear.

"THERE'S NO WAY!" Widget screamed, and the officer ran a hand over his face and groaned.

"Please, miss, could you turn that—"

"There's no way!" Athena repeated, her voice almost as loud as Widget's. The cop sighed. "He's been with us for the past week! We've been here the entire time he was!"

"That's right. He's stayed overnight a few times, also." Phoenix said, crossing his arms. "If it's a recent murder, he couldn't have done it. He was with us the entire time. I don't think you realize you may have caught the wrong person."

The police officer shook his head, scowling at Phoenix. Phoenix remained firm in his statement, and Apollo knew that they had been going at this for quite a while. "Whatever reason you might have, you're going to have to argue that later. Right now, we're going to have to arrest him. I'm not saying he won't be let off later."

"But the facts contradict the entire thing right now." Phoenix protested. Apollo noticed that his hands were tucked under his elbows, as if to prevent him from pointing out his objection. "We just disproved it in front of you."

The police officer stepped closer to Phoenix, running a hand through his hair and standing taller. The defense attorney didn't flinch, but only narrowed his eyes at the movement. "I told you I didn't want to start trouble with you. But if you keep saying that, I'm going to have to arrest you, too—"

"H-Hold on for a moment." Apollo finally reconnected with his senses and stepped between the two of them, holding out both of his hands placatingly. Both of them backed off at his sudden presence. "Why don't we talk about this reasonably?"

"That's what I'm trying to do, Apollo." Phoenix stated from behind him, and the policeman glowered. Apollo ignored the defense attorney entirely and only focused on the police officer, who seemed to be in a position of greater power at the moment (no matter what Phoenix would argue).

"Sir, I just wanted to ask—because I wasn't here at first—-what are the grounds for the arrest? I'm not opposing you or anything." He added the last part as soon as the police officer's frown deepened, continuing to keep his neutral tone. "I just wanted to know…what made you suspect Aden for murder? It's a very serious accusation, you see, I was wondering what the situation was—"

"All right, all right. You _all_ should listen, because I'm only going to say this one more time." The police officer gestured to Aden, scratching his head. "He doesn't look the type, I know. But he's linked to the murder. The boss of the Risco Records corporation was killed just last week, and he used to be one of the employees. We've got a greater lead on him than anyone else."

"But he _left_ them because he got a job with us!" Athena said, "That's—"

"Understandable." Apollo said before she could continue and cause any more difficulty. _Play nice._ "Since he left, the investigation department must have thought that there was a motive behind it."

The police officer nodded and wiped the sweat off the back of his forehead. "Thank you. I've been trying to explain that for so long. Anyway, it's not my personal decision. I'm just bringing him in."

"Yes, I see now." Apollo thought for a moment, considering whether it was a good idea to push his luck. "And you absolutely _have_ to arrest him based on this find? Is there anyone we can contact now to prove otherwise?"

"I'm sorry, kid. But you'll have to bring this to court."

Apollo sighed. At least he had tried.

Phoenix gently pushed him to the side, his expression solemn. "I'm taking the case. How soon before I can visit the crime scene?"

"As long as you don't stop me from arresting the suspect, you can go right now." The police officer said rather defensively, "But we're taking him in. Come on, Jeff."

"Yes, sir." The other policeman tightened his grip on Aden's shoulder. Aden's eyes shot up towards Phoenix and the rest of them.

"Can I…please, please, can I say something before I leave?" Aden's tone was soft, and his words wavered out of desperation. "_Please._"

The policemen glanced at each other, and the one holding Aden shrugged. Apollo decided to pursue the matter. "Just for a minute, sir. After that, we won't bother you."

The police officer stared at him, seeming to be deliberating the manner in great detail. The cop looked over at Phoenix and Athena before finally resting on Apollo, obviously taking into account the reactions of the three attorneys.

"Alright. But don't take too long, and please don't argue with me anymore. I've already told you all I know about this."

"We won't," Apollo agreed, on behalf of them all. He didn't dare look at Athena or Phoenix, but knew that they had been ready to object. "Aden, what is it?"

Aden took one step closer to him, devoid of any trace of the happiness Apollo always associated with him. It looked as though all the light inside him had vanished, leaving only a gray air of misery. The man's face was pale and he almost seemed to be shaking from the shock of the situation. He stared straight at Apollo, as if trying to hold on to a lifeline. His eyes were intense.

"Apollo, I need you to defend me."

"_Me?_"

Apollo did a double take, staring at Aden in complete disbelief. Aden seemed to be absolutely earnest about the request, his gaze unfaltering.

"Please, defend me in the trial."

"But…Mr. Wright's going to defend you." Apollo said, gesturing behind him. He swallowed. "He's going to be able to prove you innocent, too." _And he'll do it much more efficiently than I ever will…_

The police officer coughed behind Aden. "All right, we have to go soon. Come on, Mr. Guile."

Aden hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the police. When he looked at Apollo again, his eyes were filled with dread.

"Please, _please_ defend me. I want you to defend me in the trial." Aden took a step back, jolting as the other policeman grabbed his shoulder. "I need you to be the one to defend me."

Apollo wasn't sure how to react. This was too much to ask for. Mr. Wright was a far stronger defense attorney than he was, and he wasn't sure he was ready to take complete responsibility of Aden's life, after coming out of his own misgivings about the man…

Athena's eyes were boring into him, and he could almost imagine Klavier waiting expectantly for him to answer as well.

_You need to learn how to adapt to the situation._

_You think too much of everything you do._

_You just have to let everything happen as it happens._

_I'm sure there is a gap for you to fill._

"I'll—okay. I'll take your case."

Aden visibly relaxed, relief washing over his desperate expression—

"I'm sorry, but we have to go now. You can visit the detention center to talk more."

The policemen grabbed Aden's shoulders and guided him outside the Agency, closing the door behind them. Apollo heard the sound of an engine start and a car driving out into the distance.

And just like that, Aden was gone.

"Polly, are you really going to defend him?"

Apollo turned to Trucy, who had been remaining silent on the couch the entire time. She looked up at him with some sort of reflection of the uneasiness that had consumed Aden, her eyes wide with trepidation.

He took a deep breath.

"I have to defend him. And I will."

Time for a new case to begin.


	12. Snackoo Savior

Risco Records corporation. A small, unique sort of company—just like its name. It specialized in handling the case files and evidence recordings of old and upcoming criminal court filings—a relatively new concept. Organizers would accept files given from attorneys and hold the information in a safe place, keeping all the evidence either secure or prepared for a future trial. It sounded like a weirdly exclusive, unfamiliar enterprise—something which seemed more in line with what detectives and private investigators would be looking for. Still, based on its high specificity, it didn't look like it would be catching too much attention any time soon.

Observing it from the outside, Apollo saw that it was hard to notice it even existed.

The building was a thin, drab little location, with nothing much to its description except a few generic office windows and a very, very small plaque at the front door which read "Risco Records corporation." Apollo could only glimpse the sign from where he stood—that wasn't how he had found the place. The only thing discerning it from all the other buildings squeezed in around it was the attendance of the police and investigation team—police cars parked in front of the building, a dozen or so people talking and walking in and out, the presence of gloves and tape and notepads entering the company—otherwise he would have missed it entirely. There were a great many people on the scene today, and he wondered if they were going to allow him to see the actual crime setting with such hectic inspection occurring. He had to find a way in somehow—being turned away would only delay any possible leads on evidence he could discover now, and would so leave him in a very bad position in front of the prosecution.

Steeling himself and putting a hand on his defense badge, he walked up to one of the more busy seeming crime scene managers, in an attempt to slip by. "Hello, I'm the defense attorney for this case, Apollo Justice. I was wondering if I could take a look at—"

"Sorry, you can't go in just now." The man cut him off before he could even ask, waving a hand in his direction rather hastily. "The scene is restricted to investigations only."

Apollo hesitated for a moment, recalculating his approach as the man turned back to his other conversation, before deciding to remain persistent. "Actually, as the defense of this case, I have to investigate the area as well—"

"Not now, kid." The man said, his eyes flashing with irritation as he turned to Apollo again. Apollo paused nervously as the man looked him over, casting a skeptical gaze on him from head to toe. "I don't think you have the authority. We're right in the thick of the examination, so you're going to have to wait. Do you get it? Come back later."

Apollo tried searching for another solution, growing desperate. He _had_ to get in there—today! "As the defense, this is a really urgent issue—"

_Munch, munch._

Apollo broke the middle of his sentence at the noise, much to the relief of the man who had been standing in front of him. He looked around. Was that…?

_Ka-tonk!_

Right in the back of his head. He whipped around in an instant, immediately catching her among the crowd.

Holding the plastic bag of snackoos and raising a perfectly inquisitive eyebrow at him, the girl in the white lab coat waded amongst the police personnel like a complete natural, despite the pink goggles flashing outlandishly among the grayness of the atmosphere. She grabbed another one of the chocolate snacks as she approached them and munched it almost in consideration, as if the mere taste of it gave her the power to concentrate more fully on the scene in front of her. She didn't seem to regret her method of grabbing his attention at all—in fact, Apollo was sure he had seen her mouth curve the slightest bit upwards as he brushed off the spot where she had hit him in an attempt to get any crumbs out of his hair. He only stared at her as she approached, wondering what on earth he possibly could have done to upset her _this_ time…

Instead, before he could even nod in greeting, she had pushed him to the side rather dismissively and flashed her own badge at the crime scene manager.

"Don't worry, he's with me."

"Oh…" The manager looked at her ID, his eyes darting between her and Apollo. "Detective Ema Skye."

"Yeah, that's me." She seemed to have noticed the man glancing at Apollo as well, because she pointed a thumb over her shoulder to the defense attorney and rolled her eyes. "He hangs around crime scenes all the time. I guess it kills him to wait for me."

"Well, I suppose it's all right, then." The manager gave her an approving look, although his eyes lingered on Apollo a little longer. "Go right ahead, but be careful."

"Thanks." She crunched another snackoo from her bag before grabbing Apollo's hand and pulling him along behind her, guiding him around like a child. His protests of "Hey!" and "Wait!" were subsequently ignored through the sounds of her continuing to crunch the snackoo, and she only gulped it down and let him go when they were well inside the building.

Apollo stared at her as she casually grabbed two more snackoos and ate them with utmost rapidity, glaring at him expectantly the whole time. He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ema…I kind of didn't expect seeing you here. It's, um, it's nice to see you."

"Why wouldn't you think I was here? I'm a scientist." She gestured to the room they were standing in, looking no less irritated. "I do all the forensics work? Remember?"

"Wait, this is the room where the crime happened?" Apollo tried to look over her, and noticed a lot of people with gloves gathered around something which was just out of his range of vision. "I'm going to have to investigate—"

"Hold on." Ema crossed her arms and tapped her foot to get his attention, shaking her snackoo bag threateningly. "First of all, I've already analyzed this room, so for anything you want, you'll have to ask me. And also, what are you even doing here? Do you just show up to every case I'm cleaning up?"

"What? No, it's nothing like that." Apollo said, raising his hands at her skeptical look. _Even I could do without these coincidences, you know._ "It's…it's a pretty long story, but I'm the defense attorney for this case."

She scoffed, putting her hands on her hips. "I don't think it's as long as you think it is. What went wrong _this_ time?"

So she was going to interrogate him until she understood the entire situation. That was a surprise. He thought she only liked to talk about forensics stuff. "Well, since you wanted to know…the new secretary at the Agency got accused for this murder, so I'm defending him because he asked me to. Is that good enough?"

"The Agency has a new secretary?" Ema questioned, looking slightly thrown off. Her snackoo paused halfway to her mouth. "But I thought you were the one who—"

"We've had him for a while." Apollo interrupted. He didn't want to get into this now. She shrugged and ate her snackoo. "So, the crime scene? What was your analysis?"

"Depends. And I thought you'd never ask." She glanced around behind her. "What do you want to know?"

"Okay. So to start off…" Apollo gestured to the scene. "I have absolutely no idea about the nature of this case."

"That's a first. But I mean, it was pretty recent, so." Ema ate a few snackoos, and walked to the middle of the room. Apollo followed after her as she pushed past a few other forensic detectives, pointing to the thing he had been trying to catch from afar—a simple, black reclining chair with a barely visible yet cruel dark stain in the fabric of the headrest. "Long story short, the boss was sitting here. Someone walked in and shot him—presumably—in the side of the head. They found a hole in some of the plaster of the wall, so there's that for that theory. Anyway, that's about it. It was pretty simple."

"Shot him?" Apollo repeated. Wait, that was really it? There was no mysterious circumstance involved? He had thought for sure it would be more shady than that… "How can you be so sure? I know there's a hole in the wall, but did you find a bullet in there or something? Oh, wait, you inspected the guy's body—"

Ema merely lifted her shoulders and sighed. "Well, yeah we looked at all that, but it's pretty clear how the guy died if the murder weapon was left in the room."

_Wait, hold on!_

"Left in the _room?_" Apollo said, raising his eyebrows. They had actually _found_ it left behind? That seemed completely unlikely, considering the possible circumstances of the murder. "What? Really? Where was it? Did you find anything out? Was there any evidence linked to it? How—"

_Ka-tonk!_

Apollo rubbed at his forehead, and Ema disdainfully chewed on another snackoo. "You need to slow down."

"I am—" Ema raised another snackoo, and he backtracked quickly. Better to get all the information without being targeted the entire time. "I mean, fine. I'm fine. Anyway, can you tell me if you know any of those things? It would be a great help."

"I guess I could spare some stuff." Ema said, and promptly put on her pink goggles. She rapidly scanned the room before turning to him again. "We found the gun at the foot of this chair. The blood from the boss is only on this chair—it looks like he died almost instantly after he was shot. Nothing else was left behind besides the murder weapon itself, so we analyzed that."

"And? Did you find anything?" Apollo urged. Ema crunched a snackoo painstakingly slowly before continuing, as if realizing how important the information was to him.

"Well, yeah. The gun's been analyzed. Some guy's in custody…" She swallowed her snackoo, "For leaving behind fingerprints on it."

_Oh, no. Don't tell me…_

"Those fingerprints…" Apollo trailed off, unsure of how to word this. His entire case could be ruined with this one answer, and he could sense difficult times coming ahead. He would have to start employing logic starting now…where had Aden been the night of the murder, who could the real murderer be, how did Aden's fingerprints get on there… "Whose were they? Were there any other traces in the room?"

"Well, most of the traces were on the gun. But we know the guy worked here. If you want to know his name…I think it was some person named…" She tilted her head, pausing for a moment. Apollo's shoulders sank. Well, some heavy duty investigation was going to be in order. "Damien Nascent."

Apollo's eyes widened at the name.

_It's not Aden?_

**A/N: Updates will be more frequent now. Thanks for waiting!**


	13. Justice and Skye's Prime Crime Time

"Ema…wait, can you say that again? I think I missed you."

"There's no way you missed me. You were paying full attention." Ema stated, not even attempting to hide her exasperation.

Apollo bit his lip. There was no way. "Please, Ema. I really think I misheard."

"Well, whatever makes you happy." She picked another snackoo and held it between her fingers, inspecting the chocolate casing on it with an unreasonable amount of interest. "Damien Nascent. Do you need me to say it again? I know this is a records company, but it's not _those_ kind of records."

"No, it's not that. You don't understand…" Apollo paused for a minute, trying to work it out. This was making absolutely no sense. This Damien Nascent person…when on earth did he even appear in the picture?

"You're wondering how he fits in, aren't you?" Ema offered. Apollo nodded swiftly, too caught up in the scenario to be curious about how she had managed to know exactly what he was thinking. "When we got his fingerprints, we did some further exploration. He was the only employee present during the time of the murder. He claimed he was sleeping on the job when it happened—that's pretty funny, considering he really botched his cover up. I bet the job he was talking about was this one." She smirked, shaking her head. "It was a really poor excuse. The guy said he left right after finishing his shift without even bothering to check with the boss. As if he couldn't be more obvious about it."

"Yeah…you're right, that _is_ really obvious." Apollo said, furrowing his brow. Everything was fitting together. Claiming he was asleep in the office at the time of the murder, leaving without saying a single word to the boss, having his fingerprints all over the murder weapon…Apollo could see the entire situation reconstructing in his mind, with Damien Nascent being a vital addition to everything that had been discovered for a fact. "I get it now. He must have been the only one on the late shift, so he brought a gun with him and killed the boss. Then he might have dropped the gun because he was rushing and couldn't pick it up in the dark, so he decided to just leave and lie about it."

"So basically what I told you in the beginning. This guy shot the boss and left without cleaning up." Ema let out a deep breath. "Sloppy, sloppy."

"There's just a few things I don't understand." Apollo said, running a hand through his hair. It already added up. There was nothing else for him to find, and it was quite a clear cut case. Suddenly, he felt extremely frustrated. "Why am I even _here?_"

"What do you mean? You're not investigating? I thought that guy was your secretary or something." Ema said. Apollo shook his head vigorously.

"No, no, Damien Nascent isn't our secretary. Aden Guile is." Apollo tapped his foot in his agitation and put a hand on his chin. "Why did they even _arrest_ Aden? This Nascent person has a lot more evidence connecting him to the murder than Aden does. Wait…there's nothing linking Aden to the murder…is there?"

Ema dug around in her plastic bag for a snackoo. "Well, not that I know of. Except…"

"Except? Except what?"

Upon finding no snackoos left, she sighed and picked up a small crumb left in the bag before stuffing it in her pocket. "I think the some detectives mentioned something about this when they were telling me to scan the entire room for traces of DNA and identification. They said I should be really careful because they suspected two people. Apparently your secretary used to work here."

Apollo scoffed. "Come on. Really? Just because he worked there? That's pretty insubstantial considering how the other guy was _right there_—"

Ema rummaged in her other pocket and pulled out a brand new pack of snackoos, much to Apollo's dismay. He had thought that he would finally be able to ask her more about the case without the fear of getting smacked again. "There's something else, if you would let me finish. When Damien Nascent was arrested, he apparently kept screaming about how he'd been framed by his friend or something along those lines. Turns out his friend was your…Aden Guile person. Anyway, the head honcho of the police department found that a bit fishy, so he thought it'd be better if they accused Aden first."

"Just because he thought it was suspicious? Why would he—" Apollo paused, pondering it for a moment. "Oh. I see. If Aden's proven innocent in the trial, then it proves that there was no plot like that. If Nascent manages to convince them that Aden was part of a larger thing, then…"

Ema nodded and immediately picked up. "Then Damien Nascent goes free. You're on to something."

Keeping that idea in mind, Apollo forced himself to focus. Damien Nascent was the murderer. That much was already established. Aden had been taken into custody because Nascent wanted to frame him from the murder by claiming there was a greater conspiracy at hand.

But…why?

_Ema specifically said that Nascent said he was Aden's friend when he was being dragged off. Was that to keep the illusion that he'd been betrayed? Probably._

"Hey, Apollo."

_Also, why kill the boss of this company in the first place? Especially such a badly conducted murder. It was almost like he _tried _to get caught._

"Hello, Apollo?"

_If it was premeditated, then it's a pretty poor show of it. But he must have brought the gun that day with a plan, and he immediately accused Aden when he was caught, so…_

"I got it!"

Apollo snapped his fingers just as Ema was preparing to throw another snackoo, and she reluctantly ate it when his eyes flicked up to meet her own.

Yes, that was a possibility. And with all the evidence Nascent had set up for himself, it would be far easier to accuse him with this theory—

"Are you just going to stand there looking excited?" Ema asked in the driest tone imaginable. Apollo quickly obliged her.

"All right. I have a theory." Apollo said, remembering the scenario again. "Damien Nascent _did_ kill the boss, but he didn't drop the gun out of panic. I think he wanted to get caught so he could then accuse Aden, have Aden be brought to court under suspicion, and then use an extra piece of evidence to frame Aden for the murder. No one would suspect Nascent because he'll be the one that everyone thinks got framed. Do you get it?"

Ema hesitated, seeming as though she was sorting through everything he just said. "Well, even though you were speaking pretty fast, I guess. Damien Nascent wants to frame your guy by acting like he was framed."

"Yeah! That's it!"

"All right. That does seem pretty logical." Ema admitted, offering him a snackoo. He respectfully declined, although it was quite a rare occasion where she would share her food with anyone. "There's just one thing…if Nascent has a piece of evidence or made up logic that you don't know, you're going to have to find something that deliberately points out that Damien Nascent is the killer."

"Oh…right. A piece of evidence…" Apollo looked around the room and at the chair in front of them, turning back to Ema. "Looks like this is the best place to start."

Ema raised her eyebrows. "You think?"

"Do you want to help me out? You said you analyzed this place already, so you could give me more information on some stuff."

Ema hesitated for an instance. Apollo was slightly thrown off by her silence when he realized that it had been a very long time since they had worked together—in fact, the first time she had spoken to him had been as a result of Mr. Wright, not from his own volition. She scrutinized him for a moment, munching very slowly on her snackoo in contemplation of the request.

After the moment had turned into what seemed to be close to an eternity, she finally shrugged noncommittally. "Investigate away. I'll follow you around, I guess."

"Thanks." Apollo breathed, feeling grateful that Ema decided to pitch in. Now things wouldn't be as difficult to figure out…especially with two brains working together. He looked at the dark stain on the chair first, as it was right in front of the both of them. "So that's the boss's blood?"

"Yeah. His name was Victor Timon. People used to refer to him as Mr. Vic." Ema informed. Her eyes brightened, and she slid on her goggles. "Just look at that stuff glow! It's a really nice find, isn't it?"

"Um…I guess…for you…" Apollo said uncomfortably, watching her look at the blood with complete amazement. He moved away from the chair to the wall, where he recalled where the bullet hole was, and studied it amongst the investigators. "Hey, why are you guys looking at this bullet hole so much? What's so important about it?"

"Helps us find the kind of bullet that was used." Ema replied, speaking up from a little ways behind him. He guessed she was still looking at the blood.

"How exactly is that useful? You have the gun."

"But the gun doesn't tell us the direction of the bullet, how tall the shooter could have been, or whether it was a special type of bullet." Ema clarified. "Everything matters in a crime scene."

"If you say so."

After a few more minutes of hopeless investigating, Apollo almost felt like there was nothing else to be gleaned here. But where else could he search? This was the main crime scene—there _had_ to be something the criminal had forgotten! Going up to the bullet holes for the third time, much to the annoyance of the investigators, he stared at it and shook his head.

"You've been there already." Ema piped up. Apollo threw his head back and ran a hand through his hair.

"I know, I know, it's just…" Apollo opened his eyes. "I can't seem to—_woah._ All right."

"Why do you keep cutting yourself off?" Ema asked, before her eyes followed his gaze. "Oh. Whoa."

They looked up at it for a few seconds, before staring at each other.

Apollo spoke first.

"I can't believe…"

"How did they miss…"

"It's right there…"

"We never even bothered to check…"

"The goddamn _security camera._"

They were silent for a few seconds.

"I think I'm going to need new goggles." Ema said.

"No kidding." Apollo shook his head, refraining from smacking his head. All the evidence he would ever need was right in front of him! A rush of adrenaline coursed through his system. Well, at least he had found it now. He turned to Ema purposefully, a new idea lighting in his mind. "Where's the security room? There's got to be a feed on these cameras."

"Right. I'll ask around." Ema started.

"No time for that." Apollo grabbed her hand. "Let's just try to find it as quickly as possible. Camera 3…okay. We have to see what's on there!"

Before she could say anything in return, he was suddenly the one dragging her with him, darting in and out of rooms to find the right place. He had a lead, he had a lead…the investigators all stared at him rather strangely as he accidentally revisited a few rooms, but he didn't really care. There weren't that many rooms in this building, anyway…

Eventually, they did burst into the right room, just as Ema was going to tell him off for wasting so much time running around rather than simply asking in the first place. A few monitors were hooked up to a computer, and some technicians were gathered around it, analyzing the files.

"Excuse me, can I take a look at that?" Apollo said, pushing through them and grabbing the mouse for himself. The technicians looked at him disapprovingly, then at Ema when she accidentally let a cough slip by her, labeling her as the source for this disturbance based on her badge. She waved a hand awkwardly.

"Urgent evidence." she tried to explain. The technicians still seemed offended. "And…it's break, too. Your division leader said you guys can have a break. We're here to take over."

That pacified them far more than the truth. Apollo shot a look at her for lying, but the technicians were already thanking her gratefully for the news and exiting rapidly out the door, leaving them the only ones in the room. She rolled her eyes at Apollo's look.

"What? I'm not getting in a fight with them over you." She gestured back to the screen before he could object. "Find anything?"

"One second, and…yes. Here are the cameras from a few nights ago. What was it? Camera 3, right." He clicked on it. "This should be able to show us exactly what happened in the room that night…"

It was dark.

It remained dark.

There was no sound.

One minute.

"Um, I think there's nothing on the—"

"Shhh." Apollo continued to look at the screen, holding up a hand at Ema. Not yet. This was his chance.

Dark.

Quiet.

Two more minutes.

Nothing.

Still nothing.

It was nearing four minutes.

"Apollo, that passed the estimated time of the murder."

He waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Seven minutes.

"Okay, there is definitely nothing on that camera. It was probably off."

Apollo finally gave in. He hung his head and resisted the urge to slam a hand on the desk. Another possibility, gone.

"You're right. There's nothing on there. But it wasn't off." Apollo shifted back to the monitor containing all five cameras, clicking on another one for that night. Camera 1. A feed showed up for an empty room filled with filing cabinets—one they had walked into recently. "Someone wiped the camera records for that specific time. So that person must know how to control the security programs on the computers of the company." He clicked another one, finding the black screen again. Camera 2. "Camera 2. Where's camera 2? What room?"

"There was a camera in the entrance room, with all the desks for the employees. It would make sense if that was blacked out." Ema said. "Damien Nascent said he was sleeping there."

"Right, right. We'll check it on our way out." He clicked Camera 4. An empty storage room. Camera 5. A shot of the front of the company. "There's nothing left." He clenched his hand into a fist. "He erased everything…"

Suddenly, a figure appeared on screen on Camera 5 before disappearing out of range.

Apollo started, and bent over the computer. Ema leaned over his shoulder, her eyes wide.

_Gotcha._

He replayed that portion of the tape. A man in a gray hoodie walked out the front door of the company, his hands shoved in his pockets. They could only see the back of him, for his hood was up and it obscured his face, and he had a very closed stance that seemed to cave in on itself. Apollo hovered the mouse over the time stamp in the corner of the video. He nudged Ema but continued to remain transfixed on the screen as he rewinded it again.

"How does that look?"

She nibbled on another snackoo, her eyes brightening. "That's just a few minutes after the estimated time of the murder."

_Found him._

"All right. That's…that's great." He quickly added it to his evidence record among all the other things Ema had told him, his heart racing. He felt dizzy from the discovery, incredulous at the sheer fortuitousness of it. "This is it. The evidence we need."

"That was quick. And lucky, too." Ema said, laughing nervously. She also seemed to be affected by disbelief. "You really have everything for the case now? In one visit?"

Apollo considered her words. _Everything?_ Most of it, at least. But there was still something left. "Not quite. Thanks for the help, but I'm going to be heading to the detention center. I have to speak with Aden right now."

Ema gulped in the middle of eating a snackoo, bewildered at his statement. "You need something else? But you just got a tape, and actual fingerprints on the gun! What else could you need?"

Apollo straightened, turning towards the door. Yes, it was true that he had all the physical evidence…but there was one more component. And it would tie the whole case together.

"I'll ask Aden about his so-called friend, Damien Nascent. And maybe, with enough information…I'll find the motive of the murderer himself."


	14. Almost Too Easy

"Hey, Polly."

"Hello, Aden."

The atmosphere of the detention center was always immensely depressing. Apollo could feel the misery of all the unfortunate souls that had ever been held in it radiating from the drab walls themselves, closing in on him and making him feel rather suffocated. The unmoving guard in the corner of the room cast him a sharp eye when he entered, before looking back down at the floor. Apollo found it unnerving how that man could stand there all day and all night, looking like no more than a shell of a real human being as time passed on. The grayness consumed everything.

But it hadn't only gotten to Apollo. Aden's greeting this time was low and very quiet in comparison to his usual voice level. The man's vibrant energy had dulled, and there was no question as to why it had.

Aden hadn't started any conversation yet, which wasn't much of a surprise, but it was a different kind of silence compared to the more casual sort of indifference that usually happened between them. Apollo saw that the man's face was curved in a deep frown, and looked to be lacking in sleep. Aden was clearly extremely worried about this case.

Apollo cleared his throat, looking down at his evidence files. Well, there was enough to cheer Aden up from here. "You know, I got a lot of evidence that works in your favor. No one even knows why you're being put up on trial. It was some random police order."

Aden looked up, his eyes slightly more hopeful. It was a start. "Really? They said that?"

"None of the evidence points to you. I talked to one of the primary forensic detectives on the case." Apollo continued, imagining Ema's reaction at that description of her. She would either be extremely happy about it, or drown him in snackoos. "I looked around the crime scene, and everything about your involvement is based on speculation. There's really nothing to pin on you."

"Seriously?" Aden grabbed the bars, invigorated once more. The sad atmosphere enveloping him was driven away by his sudden brightness. "So I'm not even supposed to be here? They'll let me out soon, right? That's wonderful!"

"About that…you'll still have to go to the trial tomorrow." Aden's smile dimmed, and Apollo rushed to explain more. "But a lot of the evidence doesn't even relate to you…it all connects to some other guy entirely. You're not even in the picture."

Aden raised his eyebrows. "Other guy? So why did they call me? Do they think I'm affiliated with this dude?"

"We'll get to that one at a time," Apollo reassured. He looked at Aden purposefully. "I'm going to have to ask you about him, though. And please, _please_ tell me the truth the entire time. Even if it's embarrassing. Because trust me, I will know. And it will only hurt you if you lie." Apollo took a deep breath, looking down at his court record. "What do you know about a person named Damien Nascent?"

"Damien Nascent, you said? Hey! Yeah, I know him!" Aden smiled. "Damien's my—" A sudden pause. Apollo looked at him expectantly, and Aden swallowed, his excitement fading. "Well, Damien…I guess now it's used to, isn't it? He used to be my friend." Aden stared at him, eyes sharp. "He's the one who has all the evidence on him, isn't he? Did he…really…"

"That's what it looks like for now." Apollo said, feeling a pang through his chest as he watched Aden's heart visibly sink at the mention of his friend falling into bad times. _Don't think about any of that now._ "Anyway, I'm going to need some additional information on him. We think he might be trying to frame you for the murder, so it's really important."

"Frame me?" Aden repeated, his eyes widening. "If…if that's how it is…ask me about him. But please, I don't think Damien meant to do it. Damien…he was a good person."

Apollo's bracelet tightened.

He glanced down at his wrist, furrowing his brow. What? That wasn't even a lie—that was an opinion! He glared at it for some time, wondering what was wrong, when Aden interrupted him.

"Polly, is something wrong?"

"Oh…actually…" Apollo coughed, working out how to phrase his doubt. "I don't think you were telling me the whole truth when you said you didn't think Damien meant to do it, and that he was a good person. Are you sure that's really what you think? You tapped your finger on the desk pretty nervously there."

Aden stared at him for a solid few seconds, before his mouth basically fell open. "Wow, you…you're really good." He lowered his eyes, shying away. "And—and yes, you were right that I lied. Damien was not—he had a very irritating personality. It was not good to me."

Apollo's bracelet didn't change this time. Aden was more inclined to tell the truth after that confrontation, it seemed. "All right, so tell me. What was so irritating about him? What was he like?"

"Well, to start off…" Aden made an uncomfortable face, as if the memories themselves were grating. "He considered me his friend, but I never really was his. He was annoying. That's probably because…he'd lose his temper a lot. He got angry very quickly. It was hard to deal with him during my work."

"He got angry quickly?" Apollo repeated, jotting that down in his court record. Aden nodded.

"Yes. On one occasion, he stormed at a secretary of an attorney just because the girl hadn't delivered the files to the company at the time he had told her to come. And she was only five minutes late." Aden bit his lip. "To be honest, I never liked him. He wouldn't shut up once he was angry, either, which was all the time…and he would have frequent bursts of fury in the middle, so it wasn't fun to hang around."

"So…he wasn't your real friend, then." Apollo clarified. "You just let him consider you as his." Aden hesitated for a moment before nodding.

"He wasn't someone I wanted to be friends with, you see? He was very negative."

"Negative how?" Apollo pressed. Aden rubbed the back of his head.

"He would always complain." Aden said, looking almost concerned for a second. "He was a very cynical person, probably because of some hardship…but it was still pretty aggravating." The concern was gone and replaced by a clenched hand around one of the cell bars—pure vexation. "He would complain about every small thing to me at work. It hindered my thought process."

Apollo took this information in for a moment. Aden watched him tap his pen on his notebook, then rest it on his chin. He tried to imagine the extent of Damien Nascent's flaws in accordance with his crime. "All right. So far you told me he's been prone to anger, that he complains a lot, and that he probably had a rough past. And you didn't want to be his friend. Is that right?"

"Yes. That's completely correct." Aden confirmed.

_So that's all the signs of a typical criminal,_ Apollo thought to himself, filing away the suspect's personality profile. It matched perfectly. _Let's see how that relates to the company itself._

"You said he would complain to you at work. Were his complaints about work, or did they vary more towards outside things?"

"Oh, he used to grumble about work all the time. That's all he ever talked about." Aden said, waving a hand. "He'd always whine about all the organization we had to do and how the company had no real future, even though he signed up for the job. He'd also criticize the boss a lot."

"Wait, the boss? Do you mean Victor Timon?" Apollo asked.

"Mr. Vic Timon? Yeah, that was our boss. Damien _hated_ him. He'd say bad things behind his back all the time, and sometimes in front, too."

_There's another consistency._ Apollo noted._ Hating the boss but being in a desperate situation…it makes sense. The stress and anger must have overwhelmed him. But murder? What drove him over the edge?_

Apollo answered his own question in less than a second. Of course, the idea was valid. And it would be a perfect motive, too. "Aden, was Damien about to be fired by Mr. Timon before this incident? Or did something major happen between them?"

Aden's eyes darkened, and he looked away. His hands slid off the bars. The detention center seemed to cave in on the man at once, as if flocking to the presence of gloom. The secretary looked as anguished as he had been when Apollo had first stepped through the door, as if the memories had twisted him back to his former state.

Apollo paused, trying to see if he had asked something wrong. It was just a simple question…but perhaps it had many circumstances tied to it.

_That case was long, wasn't it? What made you so sure it was Athena who murdered him? Were you getting desperate?_

All simple questions, but with so many events linked to them that they were painful to answer. Just as Aden had made that mistake, it seemed he had been unintentionally insensitive as well. He decided to step back before this could get out of hand.

"I'm sorry. If you don't feel comfortable answering that, you don't need to." Apollo said, making his words as distinct as possible. "This is enough information for now. I'll just—"

"No…you're going to have to know. It's for the case." Aden interrupted, although his tone had grown quite melancholy. Apollo shook his head.

"It's perfectly all right, don't push yourself—"

"But I have to tell you. It—It'll only help me, I know. I don't like thinking about it." Aden licked his dry lips and took a shaky breath, as if hoping the words would materialize in his mouth by themselves. The very thought looked painful to him. "All right. A few days before I left the company, Damien and Mr. Timon got into…a really big fight. That same week, Damien had been mad at me as well, because of something he thought was offensive. But that part of the story isn't what I want to talk about." Aden took a deep breath, shaking his head. "All you need to know is that Damien was angry at me about some reason or the other. Anyway, Damien turned on the boss and began complaining to him about me. He said…that I was not a 'real' worker or something along those lines, and I was just tricking them all by acting like a good person."

"Acting?" Apollo repeated. "But…okay." He decided not to press that statement—it didn't seem like it would hold any information important to the trial, and would only make Aden feel worse about having to recount everything. He searched for a more significant topic in the summary. "This fight—it was just a few days before you left. And you said it was a major argument…and that Damien disliked the boss already."

"In my opinion, it wouldn't be beyond him." Aden said. Apollo ignored him, too absorbed in piecing everything together.

"If that's correct, then Nascent was probably fired right after you left, or at least threatened to be removed." he reasoned. It was all falling in place so smoothly. He had never had a case this predictable before. "But even if, through the slightest chance, none of that happened, the argument would have still left the both of them feeling very bitter towards each other. And for someone as negative and unpredictable as Damien…taking such extreme measures wouldn't be too much of a stretch."

_And that's it. That's the motive behind it all._

He snapped his court records case and his notes shut, barely able to contain his excitement of it all. He actually had the upper hand this time! Aden stared at him when he smirked, looking understandably befuddled.

"What? Are you…smiling?"

"You should be smiling too, this time." Apollo said. He felt far more lighthearted than usual. "The trial tomorrow should last no more than two hours. Especially with the testimony you've given me."

However, rather than exclaiming how great that was, or even relaxing the slightest bit, Aden seemed much more unsure about Apollo's words. Catching on quickly, Apollo returned to his normal state, curious that Aden hadn't reacted positively. "What's the matter? Have you forgotten to tell me something?"

"It's not that." Aden said, but his expression didn't change. Apollo remained tense. "It's just that…during that time, the only witnesses were me, the boss, and Damien."

_No witnesses?_

Apollo didn't like the sound of that.

Not at all.

"If there's no one from outside the trial…how am I supposed to prove that that actually happened?" Apollo put two fingers to his forehead in agitation. And it was going so well, too! "The problem is…I doubt Damien Nascent will admit to getting in a fight with his boss. And since you're the suspect in this part of the case, you'll need stronger proof."

"You mean…they might not believe me?" Aden said, his voice trembling. "But…but I _know_ what happened. I was there!"

"Both you and I understand that." Apollo assured, dropping his hand back to his lap. He bounced his knee instead, so Aden couldn't see how much it really worried him. "But to the judge and the jury, without an outside witness, it might seem like you're making something up on the spot. They don't know the difference between Nascent and you, and haven't met with anyone of you at great length either. So what I really need is some evidence."

Aden seemed to have zoned out at his words, looking at some place far behind him. Apollo traced his gaze, but upon finding nothing, realized that the man had slipped into deep thought. He felt nervous once more. "Um, Aden? What happened?"

"Evidence…" Aden put a hand on his chin before facing Apollo again. "Do you…I thought you said you needed witnesses."

"Witnesses would be good, but any hard evidence should work just as fine." Apollo urged on. Aden was in deep contemplation about something. "Do you have something in mind?"

Aden rubbed the back of his head sheepishly, casting him a small smile. "You know, I should have mentioned this earlier, then…I thought you only wanted witnesses." Apollo leaned closer in anticipation. "When they were fighting, I was keeping an account of what was happening. I dated it, too." He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. "It's in the top drawer of my former desk in the company building. The date is in the top right corner. I don't have the time, but…it says the basics of what happened."

Apollo was at a loss for words.

Aden shifted uncomfortably. "Is that…not good enough?"

Suddenly aware that he had been too caught up in Aden's statement, Apollo focused back on Aden. The man seemed genuinely, unbelievably, troubled that it wasn't sufficient. The mere fact that Aden was still anxious was almost enough to make Apollo confirm that everything he was experiencing was some variation of a dream.

_If this is real, I swear…_

"Apollo…that can't be used, can it?"

Aden remained uneasy at his lack of response. Finally, Apollo shook his head.

"No, Aden. You just gave me the last piece of evidence I needed in this case."

Aden stared at him in surprise. "What? Really? So that's…" He grabbed the bars, looking up at Apollo as the defense attorney stood up. "That's really it? You can help me with that?"

Apollo nodded.

_This is the most convenient thing I've ever come across as a lawyer…_

"I'll go and get that record you just told me about. And then we'll be set. So get some rest."

_And this is the easiest case of my life, by far._

"You'll be fine, Aden. I'll get you out of here before you know it."


End file.
